


Red, White and Faith

by MsBrooklyn



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Inappropriate Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrooklyn/pseuds/MsBrooklyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Slayin'," she tells him, not giving a rat's ass that Hawkeye is there and he's seen and heard everything so far, "makes me hungry and horny.  Not necessarily in that order.  You feel like runnin' that up your flagpole and salutin' it, soldier?"</p><p>What happens when Captain America (an American icon) and Faith Lehane (an ex-con) find themselves in an unlikely relationship?  The answer is, a collision course between two fandoms in which we discover that Tony Stark really, truly hates magic (and why).   </p><p>Set somewhere after The Avengers without a lot of regard for comics canon but plenty of regard for Joss Whedon and the MCU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Slayin'," she tells him, not giving a rat's ass that Hawkeye is there and he's seen and heard everything so far, "makes me hungry and horny. Not necessarily in that order. You feel like runnin' that up your flagpole and salutin' it, soldier?"

I own nothing. Captain America, Hawkeye, their true identities, colleagues and other MCU characters are not my property and neither is the wonderful Faith Lehane and the characters that may pop up from her universe. With much gratitude to Joss Whedon because these characters might have worked without him but with him, they are magic.

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Faith knocks out the last HYDRA operative and jogs down the corridor to regroup with her team. "I'm done with mine. Anybody need help?"

"We're good here," Hawkeye tells her and Faith finds herself checking out his arms. The Hawk has great arms and a pretty great ass. He catches her staring and fixes her with a look and a shake of his head. "Yours are still breathing, right?"

"I mighta busted some ribs," she admits, feeling uncertain and not liking it. "So maybe the breathing is kinda painful. Is that okay?"

"That's fine," comes the Brooklyn-accented voice of her favorite Avenger, Captain America. She likes that he's got the accent, like a mirror image of her Southie one. "You did good."

"So, we're five by five?"

His mouth curves into a smile. "Yeah, we are. Where'd you learn that?"

Faith shrugs, not wanting to talk about her father. "Around." Instead, she watches as Cap pulls his mask back and wipes his forehead.

He's got intense blue eyes and even without the uniform, he'd be Captain America, all stars and stripes and patriotic perfection. He was the first to welcome her to the team when Fury introduced her. There was a time that she'd have thought he was a complete square but not now. His old-fashioned manners remind her a lot of Angel, along with his belief in redemption and that everyone is basically decent. Unlike Angel, he's warm-blooded and not fixated on Buffy. Of course, he hasn't met Buffy.

Cap catches her staring. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. I was..." Fantasizing about him out of that star-spangled uniform, is what she was doing. "Spazzing," is what she tells him. "Not a big fan of being underground. Got caught in an explosion this one time and ended up in my second coma ever. Not a fan of comas either, come to think of it."

"Me either," he agrees and she remembers that he spent seventy years frozen in ice.

Faith stops herself before she can swear. Cap isn't a fan of four letter words. "Sorry," she says, quickly. "I didn't mean --"

"Faith." He cuts her off, firmly. "It's okay. You wanna go up and get some air?"

What she wants to do is go over and check out the Captain's salute. What she wants is something to pound on, because her and Captain America? Not gonna happen. Ever. He's a nice guy and she's a con. A murderer. So maybe what she really wants is a demon to beat on and it's just her luck that these HYDRA clowns were playing mad scientists with demons. It's even more her luck that the universe, in its wisdom, chooses this wish to grant instead of the one where she and Captain America get horizontal and naked.

The Polgara demon is a big one, maybe eight feet tall with skewers coming from its wrists that must be nearly three feet long. Faith knows about Polgaras. They eat every two hours, they've got good eyesight and they're vicious. She has no idea what HYDRA would want with one, unless they were raising it for parts, like that mad scientist back in Sunnydale.

"I got this," Faith warns the Hawk and Cap. Hawkeye ignores her and reaches for his quiver of arrows. Her voice is a snarl as she tells him, "Back the hell off. This is a Polgara demon and it's mine. Your little toys ain't gonna do jack except piss it off."

The demon growls as Faith approaches. She's got no weapons. No sword, no stake, not even an arrow. All she has is her Slayer-strength and the need to beat the hell out of something. Faith growls back at the Polgara and shimmies out of her jacket. She doesn't need Kevlar. What she needs is freedom of movement and an opening.

For once, the Powers that Be give her what she needs. The Polgara lunges and what follows is her kind of fight. She's taking out all kinds of frustration on this oversized demon, taking her time, going for the hurt but not the kill. Not yet. It's only when the Polgara slices her thigh with its skewer that she decides she's had enough. With a snarl, she snaps the damn skewer off at the base and slams it through the Polgara's eye socket. It topples and falls with a crash.

Faith is bruised. She's battered. Her leg is bleeding. Most of all, she is horny beyond words and the Cap is just standing there, all big blue eyes like he's never seen a demon before and maybe he hasn't. His lips are parted slightly and the sight drives her over the edge. She's on him before she can think about it, her hands grabbing that ass, pulling him hard against her as she claims his patriotic pink mouth with hers.

There's a moment where he doesn't move and then, to her shock and pleasure, he's returning the kiss. Cap is a sloppy kisser and come to think of it, didn't Stark call him a virgin more than once? Faith doesn't mind. She can deal with sloppy and inexperienced. He's enthusiastic and that's plenty.

Finally, he pushes her back and damn, if he's not blushing. "Uh...um..."

"Slayin'," she tells him, not giving a rat's ass that Hawkeye is there and he's seen and heard everything so far, "makes me hungry and horny. Not necessarily in that order. You feel like runnin' that up your flagpole and salutin' it, soldier?"

"I...uh..."

"I'll be gentle," Faith promises. "Or not. Your choice."

"Um..." His pupils are blown wide as he looks to Hawkeye for help. Faith follows his gaze and Hawk just shrugs. "Uh..."

"Quinjet's unoccupied."

That snaps him out of it. "Faith, we can't."

The rejection is like a bucket of cold water being dumped on her and she turns away, snatching her jacket from the ground. "Of course we can't," Faith agrees, not looking at him. "You're Captain America and I'm --"

"Beautiful. But we're on a mission."

"Huh?" He thinks she's beautiful?

"We have work to do," Cap tells her firmly. "That comes before pleasure."

"You're shittin' me --"

"Language," he scolds her.

Faith snorts. She just grabbed his ass and stuck her tongue down his throat and he's concerned about language. "Sorry Cap. I'll save the dirty talk for later. Trust me, you're gonna love it, especially when I show you --"

"Faith. Mission."

Making him blush is turning into her favorite new pastime. At least, until she gets him alone later. She flashes him a V with her fingers and he returns it but Faith is pretty sure he means 'victory' like in those corny old movies. V is her promise that she's planning on helping him cash in that V card of his later and she's pretty sure it'll be a victory for both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A hot chick who is definitely not a virgin just told you she's getting naked and you're sitting here drinking beer with me," Tony tells him. He grins evilly. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you planning on *courting* her? Getting her father's permission or however they did it back in the good old days?"

Faith is fidgeting. She does that a lot, worse than Steve did when he was a kid and he was a master of fidgeting. His mother and his teachers used to tease him and scold him about it, telling him he had ants in his pants. Basic training and combat were what finally got him to sit still. At least they did, right up until now. Now he's sitting here, trying to pay attention to Fury's seemingly endless questions instead of thinking about that kiss. That kiss.

"Rogers?"

"Huh?" Steve starts, realizing that not only has he not been paying attention but he's been doodling on the notepad in front of him and Fury's noticed. What's worse is that the subject of his artwork is Faith. In his doodle, she's brandishing the spear-thing she snapped from the demon's arm. 

Fury snatches the notepad. "You want to include this with your report, Rogers?" 

"Um...no, sir."

Faith, who hasn't been paying attention at all, comes alert. "Yo, Fury."

"Director Fury," the man corrects her. "A little protocol, Lehane."

"Me an' the Cap are kinda beat. You wanna cut us some slack here and pick this up tomorrow?" She stretches and Steve can't take his eyes off her as she does. Faith's jacket hangs on the back of her chair and she's wearing a sleeveless T shirt that he's positive is two sizes too small. The result is an incredible display of an abundance of cleavage. "'Sides, seems kinda unfair that Barton ain't gotta be debriefed with us."

Fury's eye goes wide. "Barton's in the medical wing recovering from a bite from a...a..."

"Ghora demon," Faith supplies. "That's like being kissed by your mama. Me, I got run through by a damn Polgara and you don't see me blowing off your meeting."

Steve has never been more grateful for his military training because he manages to remain expressionless. Inside, he's howling with laughter.

"Then why the hell aren't *you* in Medical?" Fury explodes.

That, Steve decides, is his opening. "I'll take her, sir."

Fury pinches the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Go. But all three of you are going to show up here at 0900 to be debriefed and I don't care if they have to wheel you in. Got me?"

"Yes, sir. Come on, Faith."

Faith snaps off a sorry excuse for a salute that would have made his drill sergeant apoplectic. "Yes, sir, Captain America, sir."

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It isn't until they're in the elevator that Faith realizes that Cap fully intends to take her to the medical wing and make sure she gets stitched up. "Yo, Cap! I'm fine. It's a scratch."

"I told Director Fury I'd take you to Medical, Faith," he counters, his voice full of command as he presses the button for the third floor.

"But it's healed," she protests. Damn, he's all about following orders. Then again, she could work with that later. Still, she doesn't feel like being poked at. "Okay, mostly healed but --"

The elevator doors open but Cap makes no move to get off. "There's Medical. Mission accomplished." The doors close and he presses the button for the 44th floor, the residential wing. "Now that I've taken you to Medical, as promised, how about you call me Steve?"

"Huh?" 

He flashes an all-American grin that melts her panties. "My name is Steve."

"Oh," Faith says and she says it again when he takes her hand. She stares down at their clasped hands. Robin Wood was one for cornball romantic moves but where Robin always came off as the condescending teacher, even if he didn't mean it, Cap -- no, Steve -- comes off as sweet and genuine. It's a gesture from another time or maybe for people who aren't jaded like she is. It's the kind of thing Angel might have done, she thinks. Not that she thinks of Angel that way.

"Too old fashioned?" Steve's voice makes her look up and he seems embarrassed. "Sorry --"

"No!" She tightens her grip on his hand before he can let go. "This is you bein' you. It's cool."

The smile on his face has her wishing his hand was somewhere else, doing something other than holding. "We did things differently in my day."

"Everybody's got their kink," Faith assures him. "If this is what gets you off, it's fine."

 

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Steve is saved from having to think of an answer when the elevator arrives at their destination. Living quarters are four floors below the roof and are just beyond the open space common area that greets them as they get off the elevator.

"Welcome back!" Tony Stark is lounging on a chair and there are boxes of pizza on the coffee table in front of him. "Clint mentioned Faith might be hungry so I took the liberty of ordering food."

Faith drops his hand and her posture stiffens in the fraction of a second it takes for Steve to inwardly curse Clint and Tony for their tendency to gossip about unclassified information, particularly when it comes to speculation about Steve's experience with women. Flashing a bright smile, Faith strolls over and drops onto Tony's lap, draping her arms around him and lays her head on his shoulder. "Thanks, sugar daddy!"

Tony grins and winks at Steve before addressing Faith sternly. "Never call me that again."

She slides off his lap. "What else do I call a guy that puts me up in a fancy apartment, buys me clothes, feeds me and uses JARVIS to spy on me so he can catch me naked?" Faith bends over and takes a slice of pizza and Steve is pretty sure that giving Tony the view down her top was intentional. 

"You don't want to be seen naked, put on a swimsuit when you use my pool," Tony shoots back. "And no more smoking on the roof. In fact, no more smoking period. That stuff'll kill you. I'll get you a patch or something. No, wait. I'll make you a patch. You'll stop smoking in less than a day."

Steve isn't sure what to say to any of this, so he just takes a slice of pizza. Faith swims naked. Tony's seen her naked? Faith. Naked. Damn, he's going to need a cold shower if he keeps thinking about that and he can't help but think of it now that he knows.

"You okay there, old man?" Tony asks, his lips quirking.

He likes Tony most of the time but sometimes... "Fine. Good pizza."

"Glad to help you out. Let me know if you need help with anything else." Stark waggles his eyebrows and smirks. "Advice. Pointers. Equipment."

The next time they spar, Steve promises himself, he's not going to be so easy on Stark. He puts on his most innocent look. "Actually, yeah. You got any diagrams or, uh, schematics?"

Tony, unfortunately, is Tony and he doesn't back off. Ever. "What am I? An amateur? I've got diagrams, schematics, maps, videos, Life Model Decoys, whatever you need, pal. I'm here for you."

"You're a real friend," Steve assures him and he's proud that he's able to do it without a hint of the sarcasm he's feeling. He's getting better at 21st Century bantering.

Faith finishes her pizza and stretches again. Steve watches Tony watching Faith and he feels a little flash of something he's not particularly proud of. "I'm beat," she says. "Gonna take a shower and catch some Z's." She winks at Tony. "I plan on doin' both naked. Feel free to watch and add that to your schematics, Iron Cockblock." With that, she grabs one of the pizza boxes and walks out.

Steve exhales and takes a swig of beer from the bottle that Tony hands him. "She's a real firecracker."

Tony is grinning and shaking his head. "You really are a virgin, aren't you?"

"What?" He lowers the beer, eyes narrowing at Stark. 

"A hot chick who is definitely not a virgin just told you she's getting naked and you're sitting here drinking beer with me," Tony tells him. He grins evilly. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you planning on *courting* her? Getting her father's permission or however they did it back in the good old days?"

It's called respect, Steve wants to say, but his mind is stuck on the idea of Faith, naked. Wet. Glistening. These are not respectful, gentlemanly thoughts but he's thinking them nonetheless. Courting is the furthest thing from his mind and he vaguely remembers that they call it dating now and he's not thinking about that, either.

"I made sure there's a plentiful supply of condoms in her room," Stark comments. "All kinds. Ribbed for her pleasure. Flavored. Glow in the dark." 

Steve feels his cheeks flush. 

Tony gives him a little push. "Go forth and come back a man, my son."

"You're a real jerk, you know that?"

"I think you mean I'm a real friend." 

He's a real something, that's for sure.

 

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Faith finishes another slice of pizza and curses Tony Stark again. The pizza is good but it's not what she's really hungry for. She knows Steve isn't going to come knocking on her door. Hell, she probably scared him off, what with everything she said to Tony about sugar daddies and being naked. Except... What the hell was Steve getting at with that question about schematics?

The knock at the door actually makes her jump. No way. No freaking way. Except. Yes, way. It's Steve.

"You're still dressed," he says and then he turns a shade of American flag red that makes Faith rub her thighs together. "I mean...uh, I'm glad I'm not interrupting your shower."

"What brings you to the bad side of town?" she asks and then instantly regrets it. She deserves this. Maybe. "I mean, come in. There's a couple of slices left if you're hungry."

Steve comes in and she watches him look over the room. Except for the pizza box, there's nothing that says this room is hers.

"Spartan," Faith blurts.

"Huh?"

"The room." Why the hell is she thinking about freaking Gwendolyn Post right now? Still, she said it and now she has to explain it. "The Spartans were these wicked fierce Greek warriors and they weren't big on fancy decorations or possessions. Just clothes and weapons. Cuz, a true warrior don't need nothin' else." 

"I guess that makes me a Spartan, too." He flashes her an embarrassed grin. "I don't have a lot of stuff either. I never did, really. We were kind of poor growing up."

"Me, too," she admits, amazed that she actually has something in common with Captain America. "I got by."

"Me, too." His blue eyes meet hers and she can tell he's thinking about kissing her. 

She decides to let him think about it and not jump on him, like she's dying to do. Her relationship with Robin Wood didn't end well, not with him thinking he was the expert on Slaying and the expert on Faith, but it taught her that she was capable of patience and actually *having* a relationship. The problem, as always, is finding a guy who can keep up. She's got a feeling Steve might be that guy.

"You're a real firecracker," Steve tells her, coming towards her. Faith flinches and he steps back. "That's supposed to be a compliment."

She doesn't want to get into it, doesn't want to talk about her lousy childhood or the Mayor. There was a time she would have changed the subject by throwing him down on the bed. Faith likes to think she's grown up since then. "Yeah, I know. It's just...that one's got some memories attached to it."

"Sorry."

"No prob." He's staring at her like he's still thinking about kissing her and her patience is starting to fray around the edges so she closes the distance and slams him back up against the wall. It turns out, Steve must have some kind of kink because he seems to like that just fine. His kissing skills have improved since earlier so she demonstrates a couple of new moves for him to try and it turns out he's a really fast learner. To her surprise, his hands go from resting on her hips to taking a journey upwards. She encourages him by grinding against him.

"Jesus!"

"Language," Faith teases, pulling back and yanking off her sleeveless T to give him better access. She watches his eyes go wide. "See something you like, soldier?"

"Yes, ma'am," Steve says and then he proceeds to attack, pushing her backwards towards the bed.

She'd nearly forgotten that he's close to her strength, maybe stronger, maybe not and she doesn't give it another thought when he pulls off his blue long sleeved T shirt. "God damn!"

"Language!" He gives her another dazzling smile.

That's when it hits her. She's going to defile Captain freaking America and maybe that's not such a great idea. "You know, maybe we oughtta slow down or something."

The dazzling smile fades.

"You're a nice guy," Faith says quickly, "I don't want you do someone you'd regret."

"Don't you mean something I'd regret?" His smile returns as he props himself up on an elbow, blue eyes dancing with laughter.

Faith shrugs, pretending an indifference she doesn't feel. "Maybe you want your first time to be with a girl who didn't spend time in prison for two counts of murder."

"Maybe it's not my first time," he counters.

"What?"

"I said, maybe it's not my first time."

"I heard you and again I say what?"

He groans and sits up, burying his face in his hand for a moment before looking at her again. "I'm not a virgin. That's just some stupid conclusion Tony jumped to and stuck with."

It's her turn to hide her face. "Oh." She feels all kinds of stupid right now but she meets his eyes. "It's true about me and the --"

"Yeah, I know. I read your file." Steve rubs a hand through his hair and then he's grinning at her again and when he speaks, the Brooklyn accent is stronger. "What I wanna know is, do you really swim naked?"

"I do other things naked, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Maybe if you get naked, I'll show 'em to you."

And he does.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Captain America is a national treasure who doesn't get horny but I sure as hell might, especially if you're planning on slaying vampires dressed like that."
> 
> "Geez, Steve, did you just swear, talk about getting horny and objectify me, all in one sentence?" Faith feigns horror. "Looks like I'm rubbing off on you."
> 
> "You can rub on me any time, doll." He laughs at her expression. "I grew up in Brooklyn, remember? And the Army wasn't exactly a charm school. My dirty talk might be a little dated, but it's a skill I perfected way before your parents were born."

Steve opens his eyes and reaches over to find the space on the bed next to him is empty. He sits up and sees Faith standing by the window, looking out at the city, holding something in her hand that looks like tent peg. She's peering intently into the twinkling lights of the city skyline at night and he wonders what she's thinking about. He hopes she's not coming up with a plan to kick him out because Faith is standing there without a stitch on and...just, damn. 

Maybe she hears his breath hitch because she turns and looks at him in the dim glow coming from the bright lights of the big city that never sleeps. "Hey."

"Hey." He nods at the thing in her hand. "Planning on going camping?"

"Huh?"

"The tent peg?" She still looks confused so he adds, "The wooden stake in your..." And then he feels all kinds of stupid. Stake. Slayer. Right. "So you were going to ask me to leave so you could, uh...?"

"Go patrolling? It's a good cure for insomnia. Might even help you." Her lips curve upwards.

Steve scoots backwards, sits up and leans against the headboard. "What makes you think I have insomnia?"

"You're talking to a girl who was in a coma twice and OD'd on Orpheus once. Me and sleep," Faith shrugs, "not exactly best buds." She must see something in his expression because hers hardens as she adds defensively, "The Orpheus thing ain't a habit. I did it to save a friend. And the world. Not one of my best thought out plans, but it worked. Anyway, you slept for like a hundred years --"

"Seventy."

"Whatever. You catch a few Z's here and there, but eight hours of rest? Not happenin'." She grins at him. "Also, I've seen what you do to punching bags during your late night workouts. You might wanna leave a couple for the rest of us with sleep and anger management issues."

Steve feels his cheeks flush. "You watched me?"

"Damn straight. Better than anything on cable, including porn." She launches herself at him, does a midair flip and lands straddling him, still holding the stake. "Came close to asking you to spar a couple of times but..."

"But," he prompts.

"But you'd wanna be a gentleman and hold back." Her fingers trail over his chest and when those dark eyes meet his, they're full of reproach. "Just like you held back earlier."

Steve wants to contradict her, but she's right. He held back, afraid he'd hurt her. Back when he was still getting used to his new body and was flattered as hell by those USO chorus girls, he'd been too rough on a couple of them. They hadn't complained but they didn't come back for more, either. Still, he says, "You didn't seem to mind."

"Do it again and I'm gonna mind plenty." This time, she drags the pointy end of the stake over his chest and Steve feels himself get more than a little excited about that. "I'm a Slayer. I'm strong and I heal fast. Just like you. We can have a lot of fun, abilities like ours."

"What exactly are we talking about?" he asks cautiously.

"Right now?" Faith bends down and brushes her lips against his. "I'm talking about doing something about this insomnia problem we've got." She kisses him hard. "I'm talking about slaying."

"You want me to come hunt vampires with you?"

With a grin, she leaps off of him, taking the sheet as she goes and exposing him completely. Her eyes focus on his state of arousal and the grin becomes filthy with intent. "Slaying makes me hungry and horny, remember? I gotta wonder what it'd do for Captain America."

He doesn't mean to do it, but he tenses. Being Captain America is easy, all he has to do is follow orders and give orders. He's still learning how to be Steve Rogers because he has to be something other than a 'man out of time'. Faith's smile falters and he realizes that Steve Rogers is being an uptight asshole because it's not like Faith or anybody else is going to know who the real Steve is. "Captain America is a national treasure who doesn't get horny but I sure as hell might, especially if you're planning on slaying vampires dressed like that."

"Geez, Steve, did you just swear, talk about getting horny and objectify me, all in one sentence?" Faith feigns horror. "Looks like I'm rubbing off on you."

"You can rub on me any time, doll." He laughs at her expression. "I grew up in Brooklyn, remember? And the Army wasn't exactly a charm school. My dirty talk might be a little dated, but it's a skill I perfected way before your parents were born."

"They're gonna say I ruined you," Faith laughs. "Get your dated ass dressed and let's go hunting."

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They go to Harlem and they take his bike instead of hers. No contest, really. Steve's bike is a new Harley 750 with God knows how many modifications by Stark, the most important being that it runs damn near silent. Faith's bike is an eight year old Harley Softail that doesn't know the meaning of silent and barely understands the concept of running. Besides, she gets to wrap her legs and arms around him and that's not exactly a hardship. For either of them. 

He parks off of 125th Street and slides off his helmet, whistling softly as he surveys the damage. Buildings have been reduced to rubble, others are partially intact. There are only a few functioning street lights here and there and the sidewalks are a cratered mess. "Bruce said he broke Harlem but..."

"This," Faith says, shaking out her hair, "is why you need to get the hell out of Stark's ivory tower once in a while. See the world you're saving." 

"Ever see pictures of London and Paris during the War?" he asks her.

Faith has to think about it. She hated school and hated history in particular. "Maybe. I kinda skipped a lot of the learning parts of school."

To her relief, he doesn't comment on her admission or suggest that now might be a good time to get her GED. Instead, he says, "It looked a lot like this."

"Midtown looked a lot like this, too." Faith scowls. "Not a lot of low income families living there, though. Easier to rebuild when you have Stark bankrolling his own repairs and his foundation kicking in. Less easy here. All the rich people that moved here when they started 'gentrifying' Harlem had insurance. Easy for them to pick up and go elsewhere. Poor's still here. Nowhere else to go, even without power or running water. Then you got your squatters and your junkies. I see this and I feel sorry for Bruce, but what he did really sucks. Even if it was the Other Guy."

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "He knows that. I guess we've all done stuff we're not especially proud of."

She wants to ask what he did that he's not proud of, but it's probably a sore subject. Instead, she says, "The truth is, no matter how much you suffer, no matter how many good deeds you do to try to make up for the past, you may never balance out the cosmic scale. The only thing I can promise you is that you'll probably be haunted, and maybe for the rest of your life." 

Steve turns to her. "That's profound."

"That's why it stuck in my head," Faith tells him and then she grins. "The guy who said it to me is even older than you."

"I doubt that. I was born in 1919."

"He was born in 1727."

His eyes go comically wide. "What?"

She opens her mouth to tell him about Angel when they hear the scream.

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She's fast. Her file said Faith was fast and he saw it for himself when she took on that demon, but Steve is still impressed by how fast she can move, especially in those leather pants she's wearing. He likes those leather pants. A lot.

Faith stops in front of the remains of an apartment building. The top two floors are destroyed but the first floor is mostly intact, with boarded over windows and a boarded up front door that's gaping open. She goes through first and he follows close behind. The first apartment is missing its front door. Faith peeks in and backs out, shaking her head. They pass a second apartment and finally come to one that still has a door. There's no hesitation on Faith's part. She kicks the door open, revealing what Steve is sure must be a vampire because its mouth is clamped to the neck of a terrified woman.

"You don't want her," Faith tells the vampire. She points at Steve. "You want him."

The vampire's head comes up and Steve gets a good look at his first vampire. Its eyes are yellow and its forehead is ridged. What gets his attention though, are the fangs. The vampire shoves the woman aside and lunges. It moves a lot faster than he expected and he barely gets out of the way in time. Vampires, Steve quickly discovers, are damned strong.

"Hey Steve," Faith calls.

He looks over at her and she tosses him the stake. It's all the distraction the vampire needs to growl and slam him hard against the wall. Steve growls back and shoves using all his strength.

The vampire's face shifts into something more human and he -- it's definitely a he -- looks confused. "What the hell are you?" He sniffs. "You smell human."

Steve hesitates. It's one thing to stake a yellow-eyed monster but it's another to stake something that looks like a person. His moral internal argument is interrupted by the vampire's next assault. Steve decides he can worry about morality later and thrusts the stake dead center into the vampire's chest. Nothing happens.

"The heart," Faith calls out, laughing. "You gotta stake the heart."

Easy for her to say. He has to yank the stake out of a moving, angry vampire that's trying to kill him and then stake the thing properly. Unfortunately, the vampire gets the stake out first and now he's aiming it at Steve's chest. They grapple over the stake and finally, Steve gets hold of it and drives it home.

He can't believe it when the vampire turns to dust. "How --?"

Faith shrugs. "Some kinda magic that nobody understands. So? How's it feel to be a vampire slayer?"

Steve looks around. The would-be victim is long gone and the only evidence she was ever there are a syringe, some works and a spoon. He stuffs the stake inside his motorcycle jacket and considers Faith's question. "I feel good. Alive," he says, slowly as he realizes what else he's feeling, taking in Faith in her leather pants and low-cut tank top. "I feel really goddamned horny."

And then he does something about it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony can't stop watching the footage. "Tell Pepper. She handles the money. What I can't believe is how the Captain is handling the Slayer. Wasn't he a shy virgin just yesterday?"
> 
> "Fast learner?" Bruce suggests.
> 
> "Fast company?" Clint counters, unable to take his eyes off the video. "Who'd have thought Rogers had *that* in him?"
> 
> "More like he had it in her," Tony grins and then an idea occurs to him. "Did Captain Rogers cause any other structural or superficial damage to the building, Jarv?"

Chapter 4

 

The sun has been up for almost half an hour by the time they get back to the Tower. They're covered in dirt, blood and gore but that doesn't stop them from making out during the elevator ride up to the 44th floor. Steve has Faith pinned against the elevator wall and he's grinding against her so hard that the elevator nearly goes off its tracks. JARVIS says something but neither of them pay any attention. 

"Morning, kids." Hawkeye is standing there when the doors open, arms folded over his chest, smirking. The smirk fades when they break apart and he gets a good look at their wrecked clothes and bruises. "What the hell were you two doing?"

"Having our first date," Steve tells him, grabbing Faith's hand and tugging her past Clint. "I gotta say, dames today really know how to show a guy a swell time."

They leave Clint with his mouth hanging open and Faith is pretty sure that it's going to be all over the Tower that she punched the Captain's V card. If it's not classified, Clint's like an old lady when it comes to gossip and Stark is even worse. She wonders who's going to win the pool and what the odds were as Steve tosses her over his shoulder and carries her down the hall.

It's only the sight of the famous red, white and blue shield leaning against the sofa that makes Faith notice they're in Steve's set of rooms when he sets her down. The place is as undecorated as hers, except for some books about World War II and a vintage record player. Faith picks up one of the records and frowns down at it. "The Glenn Miller Orchestra."

Steve comes up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and buries his face against her neck, nipping her roughly. "Don't knock it 'til you've heard Moonlight Serenade."

Faith snorts. "Yeah, later for that."

"Fine with me." His fingers toy with the top button of her pants. "We've got better things to do."

They've been doing better things for the past five hours, not that Faith is going to complain. Apparently, between not getting any action for decades during his ice nap and the super soldier serum, Steve Rogers is a frigging machine. She's actually a little sore and that hasn't happened since she before she became a Slayer. And again, no complaints from her, especially when she knows that she's probably the only one who's spent any time with Steve Rogers -- the guy, not the symbol -- since he came out of the ice.

An hour later, he collapses on the bed next to her with a goofy grin. "You doing anything tonight?"

"Besides you?" She's sore as hell now, because as promised, he didn't hold back and there's a bed-sized dent in the wall to prove it. 

Steve levers himself up on an elbow and when he speaks, his Brooklyn accent is thicker and a lock of blond hair falls over one blue eye. He looks completely and utterly debauched but also innocent at the same time. "I didn't wanna presume."

"Are you kidding?" Faith puts a little more Southie into her tone as she goes for some honesty, which is something else she learned from Robin. "I had a great time. Not just the mind blowing sex. You're..." She wants to get the words right but when she says them, she's pretty sure it comes out stupid. "I got to spend time with the guy under the mask and I gotta say, he's pretty damn cool."

His face lights up so maybe it wasn't so stupid after all and then he looks shy as he tells her, "I'm still kinda figuring out who that guy is."

"I'm still trying to figure out who I am," Faith admits. She stops before the conversation gets too heavy. "But I can tell you this, I ain't somebody who listens to Glenn goddamn Miller."

Steve smacks her with a pillow.

 

000000000000000000

 

"Pay up," Clint says.

"Play it again, JARVIS," Tony orders even though he's watched the elevator footage four times now. He watches again as his pal, Captain America, sticks his face in Faith's cleavage and then proceeds to dry hump her against the wall of the elevator. "Look at him go! To quote Thor, we need revels and since you're the big winner, Clint, you can pay."

"He's gonna be sorry he missed this," Clint agrees.

They're in Tony's lab, where he's called an impromptu meeting after JARVIS alerted him to the damaged elevator. One screen displays the Captain America V Card Punching Pool and identifies the four lucky winners who bet on Faith. The other two hundred or so losers have yet to be notified.

"Missed what?" Bruce asks, coming up behind Tony. He freezes and nearly spills his cup of green tea when he sees the video, which is now on an endless loop. "Is that --?"

"The icon and the ex-con breaking my elevator," Tony confirms.

Clint snorts. "Both of you need to pay up."

Tony can't stop watching the footage. "Tell Pepper. She handles the money. What I can't believe is how the Captain is handling the Slayer. Wasn't he a shy virgin just yesterday?"

"Fast learner?" Bruce suggests.

"Fast company?" Clint counters, unable to take his eyes off the video. "Who'd have thought Rogers had *that* in him?"

"More like he had it in her," Tony grins and then an idea occurs to him. "Did Captain Rogers cause any other structural or superficial damage to the building, Jarv?"

"The drywall in Captain Rogers' bedroom is in need of repair," JARVIS responds. 

They all watch the footage again.

0000000000000000000000000

 

It's 0900 and Clint has just discovered how good a game face Captain America has. They're sitting in the conference room with Faith, being debriefed by Fury and Cap is cool and professional. Clint feels like he's seeing Cap for the first time because what he sees isn't the authoritative Captain he's been following all this time. Instead, he sees a 27 year old kid. Sure, the kid is Captain America, the guy who's been asleep since the 40's, but he's also a guy in his late twenties, with all the wants and needs of one and who's getting them seen to in a very modern way. After making all the jokes about Cap being a grandpa, it's Clint who suddenly feels old, especially when Fury abruptly changes his line of questioning.

"So," Fury drawls slowly, his gaze levelled at Cap, "wanna tell me what you two were doing in Harlem for five hours this morning?"

Cap is cool as a cucumber when he answers. "Slaying fourteen vampires and two Grappler demons, sir."

Clint's gaze ticks to Faith, who's shifting uncomfortably in her chair. He feels for the kid. He's still trying to decide if he likes her, but he feels for her. She's had bad breaks, done some bad things but, like Nat, she's been making an effort to turn her life around. Clint respects that.

"Fourteen vampires and two Grappler demons," Fury repeats. "That's nice work, Captain." There's a beat of silence and Clint knows what's coming next. "Why the hell were you slaying vampires and demons, Rogers?"

"That's on me," Faith says and the full weight of Fury's attention swings to her. "I took off and Cap came after me to bring me back. Gave me one'a his lectures about teamwork and everything." She hangs her head and Clint is pretty impressed at her chutzpah. "So, uh, I guess I'm in trouble for sneaking out, right?"

Fury smiles and it's not a nice smile. "That's cute, Lehane. You're not a bad liar but you're not a great one, either." He levels his gaze at Cap again. "There are squads of slayers out there, Rogers. I don't need Captain America slaying demons and vampires."

"Captain America didn't," Cap says evenly, "Steve Rogers did."

"You telling me there's a difference?" Fury asks.

Cap doesn't say a word, just eyeballs him.

"Keep it up, Captain Rogers," Fury tells him and Clint sees the barest hint of a smile on the man's lips. "The shrinks have spent months advising me on how to get you out in the world. Slaying vampires isn't ideal but it's a step in the right direction." He narrows his eyes at Faith. "Go easy on him and no unnecessary risks during your off hours, got me, Lehane?"

Faith stifles whatever sarcastic comment she was going to make when Cap gives her a quelling look. "Yeah. I mean, yes, Director Fury."

Fury mutters something under his breath. "Your reports will be on my desk by 1700 tonight and, Lehane, use spell check this time or have your boyfriend over there proofread it for you." With that, he gets up and leaves, slamming the conference room door behind him.

Faith leans back in her chair and exhales. "Busted."

"So, Clint," Cap says, his eyes narrowing, "who won the pool?"

 

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

 

"I can't get drunk." Steve is sitting on Faith's bed, making corrections to her report on her laptop. Despite what Fury said, there were only a couple of changes he needed to make. The report was well-organized, better than some of the ones he's seen Clint turn in. "After listening to Tony all day, I really wish I could."

"Okay," Faith says, flopping down next to him. "First of all, wishing? Dangerous. Don't do it. Second, for real?"

"For real." He saves the corrected version of the document and sends a copy to Fury. "One of the not so great side effects of the serum." With a sigh, he closes the laptop and sets it down on her night stand. "Believe me, I tried."

"Ever try it in a demon bar?"

Steve looks over at her. "There are demon bars? What do they serve?"

"Yes, there are," Faith says, flashing him one of those smiles that gets him going. "They serve regular booze, blood, weird shit that demons drink and also magic booze. The kind that gets Slayers and super soldiers wasted." Her smile fades. "Maybe that's not such a great idea. Fury'll have my ass --"

"He wants me out in the world." Steve uses air quotes on the latter part of that sentence, just one of the many things he's learned from her during the past twenty-four hours. "Going out drinking with my girl qualifies."

"Your girl?"

"Too old-fashioned?"

Faith sits up and looks at him, her expression serious. "It comes off as kinda possessive what with today's sensibilities and all but I think I can go with it. We don't want you to go into culture shock or anything." Her mouth twitches and then she bursts into laughter. "Wanna teach Tony and Clint a lesson?"

Steve loves her idea and he loves it even more that neither Tony nor Clint see it coming when he finds them in Tony's lab. They're too busy watching a video of something that Tony quickly shuts off when he walks in. "Hey, guys."

Tony smirks at him. "They just finished fixing the elevator."

He's heard about the elevator all day. Miraculously, the dry wall in his bedroom was repaired during the meeting with Fury. Steve doesn't want to think about how somebody knew that repair was needed. "Listen, I figured we might, uh, go out --"

"I've got plenty of booze right here for us to celebrate you becoming a man," Tony assures him. 

"Yeah, but you know," Steve says, giving Tony his saddest look, "I can't get even buzzed off that stuff. Faith says she knows a good demon bar with magical booze that should do the trick."

Tony exchanges looks with Clint and then he falls for the bait. "Magical booze? Really?"

"She says it's a thing."

"I've heard rumors," Clint says. "Never been to a demon bar, myself."

It's been a long time since he's played a practical joke and this is the first time he's done it without Bucky. Steve thinks Bucky would have appreciated this one. "Now's your chance. We should take advantage of having a Slayer on the team."

"You're doing plenty of that for all of us," Tony assures him and actually leers. Steve's hand curls into a fist that he quickly hides behind his back. "Still, I like the idea of magical booze. I'm in."

Clint, who's a far better judge of character and situations than Tony, is less enthusiastic. "Fine, I'll go, but I'm the designated driver."

Steve knows what a designated driver is. As the one guy who can't get drunk, the duty usually falls to him. He smiles. "Thanks, Clint. See you guys in an hour?"

As he leaves the lab, he notices Tony turning the video back on while he speculates about demon bars.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hand Tony extends is surprisingly steady and Faith has to give him props. He winces when the demon licks him but then a wide smile spreads across his face. "That...that tingles!"
> 
> "Yes," the demon rumbles. "Our saliva is an aphrodisiac to many species but it is especially potent for humans. You and your mate shall enjoy much pleasure this night. My thanks to you for your bravery in protecting our domain from would-be conquerors. We are most pleased that the Avengers are accepting of demon-kind."

Chapter 5

 

Faith has known Captain America for two months. Captain America is a stand-up guy, who always says and does the right thing. He's a larger than life, honest to God hero. She's known Steve Rogers for a little over a day and while he has a lot of Captain America's qualities, Steve is not Captain America. He's especially not Captain America wearing those jeans, which hug his perfectly sculpted ass in a way that has her licking her lips. Rocking bod aside, Steve has a wicked cool sense of humor but Faith is the only one who knows it. Yet. 

"So," Tony drawls, eyes raking slowly over her. "Demon bars."

Faith returns the favor, making sure she lingers on his crotch before meeting his eyes. "They don't like humans so you're gonna be on your best behavior. That means no staring, no matter what they look like and no shooting off your damn mouth." She moves closer to him and grabs the front of his shirt, which probably costs more money than she's ever had in her life. "Understand?"

Tony grins. "You're making the Captain jealous, sweetheart."

She shoves him backwards so that he crashes into Clint. "Keep an eye on his stupid ass."

"No warning for me?" Clint asks.

Faith snorts. "You've actually got sense."

He nods and Faith feels like she just passed some kind of test with him. "So where is this place?"

They're in Murray Hill, not far from the Tower but far enough for the neighborhood to have a completely different vibe. The area is a mix of old construction and new, run down office buildings next to glittering new towers. Mom and pop shops vie for space alongside chains like Chipotle and Starbucks. There are also a number of empty stores and buildings, like the one they're standing in front of.

"Right here," Faith says and walks through the illusion. The bar is called Praetereo, which Google told her is Latin and means 'pass over' so she figures the name is part of the concealment spell. It's a lot classier inside than she expected, dark wood and shiny brass everywhere. Most demon bars she's been in have been of the dive bar variety. This one is decidedly more upscale.

A blue-skinned, horned hostess greets them, acknowledging Faith first. "Slayer."

"Table for four," she tells the demon, shooting a look at Tony, who, despite her warning is staring at the hostess' impressively large set of four breasts.

"All weapons must be checked," the hostess says. "Though we have a Sanctuary Spell in place, we prefer to discourage violence." Her black eyes focus on Tony. "We also prefer that pets be left outside."

Tony starts to open his mouth but Clint slaps a hand over it, nodding at Faith.

Faith pulls the knife from her boot and hands it to the hostess, who gives her a numbered ticket. With another withering look at Tony, the hostess leads them to a table far away from the other customers. There are a pair of Carynyss demons, a few vampires, a Bog'hdar and several other species that Faith isn't familiar with. She slips into the booth and Steve sits next to her, pressing his thigh against hers. Clint waits for Tony to sit, forcing him to take the seat adjacent to the wall and then sits on the outer edge of the bench.

"Nice place," Steve remarks. 

"I'm not a pet," Tony says and sulks for half a second before goggling at a giant grey-skinned demon who walks past their table on the way to the restroom. "What do you think he drinks?"

"She," says their waiter, in a tone that could freeze lava, "is having fermented yak urine. Shall I bring you a glass?" The waiter looks human but Faith knows instinctively that the pale, red-haired slight man is most definitely not human and nowhere as young as he looks. "She's also looking for a new mate. Bit the head off her last one after he fertilized her eggs. I can introduce you, if you'd like, Mr. Stark."

It's a rare thing to see Tony Stark flustered and Faith wonders whether it was the yak urine, the offer or the mouthful of sharp teeth that their waiter flashes. "What kind of Scotch do you have?"

The waiter throws back his head and laughs. "Friends of the Dark Slayer get the very best, brave boy." 

Faith decides to step in before Tony says anything that will end with them drinking yak urine. "My friend here," she says, nodding at Steve, "is kinda Slayer like. Can't get buzzed off the ordinary stuff. Can you help him out?"

"But, of course!" The waiter gently brushes two fingers across Steve's forehead. "Ah, I see. I'll be right back with your order." He starts to leave but Clint clears his throat.

"Uh, excuse me --"

"Beer. Yes, we have that brand. Coming up."

"I..." Clint trails off and shrugs. "Thanks."

Tony is still staring after the waiter. "Demons know who I am. I'm missing out on a whole market for Stark tech. Pepper needs to know about this."

"Demons are low tech," Faith says, resisting the urge to kick him under the table. "And they prefer to be under the radar. Fury prefers 'em that way, too."

They're saved from Tony's response by the arrival of the waiter, who sets a bottle of some kind of German beer that Faith's never heard of in front of Clint and gives all four of them a glass of something clear. He winks at Faith and smiles at Steve. "This should be exactly what you're looking for, shiny one."

"Shiny?" Clint snorts. "Maybe yesterday."

Steve takes a tentative sip of his drink, followed by a longer one. He bumps his leg against Faith's again. "Speaking of my deflowering, how much did you win, Clint?"

"A little over eight hundred," Clint says with a grin. "So first round is on me."

"I wouldn't spend it so fast if I were you," Steve says, knocking back his drink. "I lost my cherry in 1935 when I was sixteen. Bucky took me to a whorehouse in Coney Island for my birthday. Afterwards, I rode the Cyclone and had my first beer. It was a pretty swell birthday." 

Both Tony and Clint gape at him but it's Tony who recovers first. "You...? A...?"

Shrugging, Steve leans back, his eyes closed and his lips curved upwards in a very non-Captain America smile. "That's how we did it back then. Either that or you took Mary Elizabeth McSorley out dancing. I wanted to but she got knocked up a few months before my birthday and she wouldn't, uh, dance with anybody younger."

"Okay, but it was just the one time, right?" Tony asks. He's had a third of his drink and there's a definite slur to his words. Clint reaches over and hooks the glass with his finger, discreetly tugging it away from Tony. "You were just a --"

"What? A scrawny little asthmatic? Sure, before the serum." Steve takes Tony's glass from Clint and downs it expertly before turning to Faith with a cocky grin that means he's feeling the drink's effects. "What happened after the serum is nobody's goddamned business."

The waiter comes by and deposits a pitcher of water and glasses on the table, along with a Scotch for Tony and another round of the clear drinks for Faith and Steve. Clint is still nursing his beer while he keeps an eye on their surroundings. Faith watches him and she's impressed because he's focusing on the same pair of demons that have caught her eye. They're big and the color of concrete, with horns jutting from their cheeks and shoulders. Both of them have been looking over at Tony and Faith has the feeling they're thinking he might make a good bar snack.

"So," Tony says, turning his attention to Faith. "Got any interesting stories about slaying?"

A demon bar isn't the best place to talk about being a Slayer and it doesn't help that Tony is drunk and more than a little loud when he asks the question. Several heads swing in their direction and most turn away when they realize which Slayer is in the bar.

Steve, even with his buzz, comes to her rescue. "You weren't born a Slayer, right?"

"Right. At least, that's how it worked when there used to be just one." She takes a sip of her drink. It's her first taste of it and the sweetness surprises her. "What you were was a Potential. Maybe you were a little stronger, a little faster but mostly normal. I was seventeen when I was Chosen."

"Who chose you?" Clint asks and she's surprised by his interest.

"Nobody. There was this spell and don't ask me how it worked." Faith takes another sip of her drink and steers the conversation away from Slayer life spans and being Chosen. She tells them the story about that summer night in Boston when she rescued a church bus full of Baptists from a group of vampires and how she got arrested for indecent exposure.

The waiter comes by and he's got a shot glass of what looks like blood, setting it down in front of Faith. "From the gentlemen over there," he says, gesturing at the Concrete Twins. He looks uncomfortable and Faith doesn't blame him. The poor guy is caught in the middle. "It's pig's blood, if you would prefer to drink it and not insult them."

"Is it fresh?"

"The source is squealing in our back room," the waiter assures her.

Faith picks up the glass. Since Sunnydale and before being recruited by Fury, she's done all sorts of things that she never thought she'd do, including doing pig blood shots with demons. 

The Concrete Twins' laughter makes the room shake and they salute her with their own shots.

Tony's mouth is hanging open. "You...you..."

Faith takes a big gulp of her drink to get rid of the taste. "If I didn't drink it, we'd be fighting those two."

The waiter appears with another glass of the clear stuff. "This is on the house, sweetheart."

"Thanks..." She raises an eyebrow.

"Nu'ar."

"Thanks, Nu'ar."

Steve drapes his arm around her and when he speaks, he's doing it slowly and carefully, a sure sign the drinks he's knocked back have had an effect. "You gonna drink that?"

"Maybe you wanna slow down, kid," Clint suggests. "I think they're catching up to you."

"Kid?" Steve snorts a laugh. "I thought I was grandpa."

Clint eyes him and Steve actually straightens, coming almost to attention under his stare. "Right now, you're acting your biological age. All 27 years of it. As the responsible adult in the group, I'm telling you to slow down."

The moment is broken by Tony, who is laughing hysterically as he points to Faith. "You broke him! You broke Captain America!"

"Captain America?" One of the Concrete Twins is on its feet. "Where?"

"That's Iron Man," the other Concrete Twin says, pointing at Tony. "The other one must be his mate."

"What? I'm not --" Clint stops himself and rolls his eyes. "Never mind."

The two demons approach and it's like watching the mountain coming to Mohammad. Faith plasters on a grin she doesn't feel and waves hello. The slightly smaller one leans over Steve and sniffs. "Captain America."

"Hi," Steve responds in the cheery, measured, friendly tone he uses for public relations and extends a hand for the demons to shake. "Nice to meet you." 

The smaller demon takes his hand and licks it, leaving a slimy trail of shiny dark grey mucus. Then he holds out his hand and bares his teeth in what Faith figures is a smile.

Steve's publicity friendly smile falters for a second. "Uh, us humans shake hands. Hope that's okay."

"As you choose, Captain America," the demon responds. 

The larger demon doesn't extend a hand. Its attention is on Tony. "May I have the pleasure of tasting Iron Man?"

Tony's eyes go wide and he looks at Faith, who shrugs as Clint gets up to let Tony out of the booth. Clint, who's usually stone faced, is smirking, clearly no longer upset about being dismissed as Tony's mate.

The hand Tony extends is surprisingly steady and Faith has to give him props. He winces when the demon licks him but then a wide smile spreads across his face. "That...that tingles!"

"Yes," the demon rumbles. "Our saliva is an aphrodisiac to many species but it is especially potent for humans. You and your mate shall enjoy much pleasure this night. My thanks to you for your bravery in protecting our domain from would-be conquerors. We are most pleased that the Avengers are accepting of demon-kind."

With that, the demons bow and go back to their table.

Steve is staring down at his hand.

"Does it tingle?" Tony asks him.

"Uh..." Steve looks at Faith. "Kinda."

"Pepper's out of town," Tony says, his voice going slightly higher as he finishes his sentence. He looks over at Faith. "Any chance I could join you guys?"

"Sorry, old man, I don't think you'd be able to keep up with us," Steve tells him.

"Don't look at me," Clint warns. "I'm the designated driver." He levels a hard stare at Tony. "And no matter what those demons thought, I'm not your mate."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So," Bruce says to Clint. "That must have been an interesting night out. I'm not sorry I missed it."
> 
> "I'm trying to figure out when I became the responsible one," Clint tells him.

Chapter 6

 

They're back at the Tower in a few minutes because, thankfully, the bar was only twelve blocks away. Still, the trip takes long enough that Clint is eager to get back and have a few drinks of his own. He wants desperately to try to forget the past few minutes of listening to Tony's play-by-play commentary about his reaction to the demon saliva. He'd also like to forget having to physically restrain Tony from his attempts to take matters in hand, and when that failed, to rub himself against Faith, Cap and Clint. Sadly, Clint knows that would take cognitive recalibration and he doesn't feel like banging his head against wall. Yet.

"Demon sex spit," Tony is moaning as they get into the elevator. "I love demon sex spit. I need to get to the lab and show Banner. No. I need to call Pepper and have phone sex. No. Wait. I can do both. Phone sex while Banner and I analyze the sex spit." He's panting hard as he swings around to look at Cap. "This stuff is amazing, right Capsicle?"

Cap just shrugs and reaches for Faith's hand. She meets Clint's eyes and gives him a 'what can you do' grin. "It was okay, I suppose."

"Noooo," whines Tony. "Don't tell me it wore off already! Did it wear off? What about the booze?"

"Sober as a nun," Cap tells him and then shoots a dark look at Clint. "Somebody wouldn't let me keep drinking."

Clint returns the look with extra attitude and is rewarded when Cap actually slouches a little under his death stare. "In public. You've got the bottle of whatever the hell that was. If you want to get wasted, do it in the Tower away from the public and the paparazzi but don't complain to me about your super hangover tomorrow." Then he softens his expression. "You're a real pain in the ass, kid."

The comment earns him one of Cap's brilliant all-American smiles. "That's a refreshing change from you calling me a 'prissy virgin grandpa', Clint."

"I never called you prissy." The elevator doors open on the lab level and Clint takes hold of Tony's elbow, wincing when Tony groans in pleasure and mutters something about Clint's firm hands. He glances over at Cap and grins. "I might have implied it once or twice."

"Banner! Where are you? We need to scrape samples of the sex spit," Tony yells. "Come on, Banner. Hurry up! The love loogie awaits!"

Bruce pokes his head out of one of the small offices off to the side of the lab. He's holding a pair of Petri dishes and a small tool that Clint guesses is going to be used to scrape the samples. His gaze slides over Tony, takes in the bulge in Tony's jeans and he blushes furiously. "Okay, then. Let's do this fast."

"Hard and fast," Tony says, waggling his eyebrows. "Then slow. Or not. We need to call Pepper unless Faith wants to find out why they really call me Iron Man."

"No more demon bars for you," Faith says, picking up a test tube full of amber liquid and then quickly replacing it when Banner scowls at her. "Okay, not touching."

Tony emits a gasp when Banner scrapes his skin. "That was nice, Bruce. Do it again?" Then he ogles Faith. "Come on, Faithy. Help a guy out. Natasha's off overthrowing a government somewhere, which means you're the only available option --"

"Wow, you're a sweet talker." Faith rolls her eyes.

"I'll pay," Tony wheedles. "You want a bike like the Capsicle's? Money? Money and a bike? Name your price, woman. I'm a billionaire with a boner."

Faith snorts a laugh. "It just keeps getting better."

"It sure does," Cap agrees as Bruce takes a scraping from his hand. "I suggest you quit while you're ahead, Tony. Faith's my girl."

Clint watches Faith's reaction to see how she feels about being declared Cap's property after only a day of whatever the hell it is they're doing. There's a slight clenching of her jaw and a hint of a trapped animal look that she quickly squelches. He braces himself because he knows she's not going to just swallow that reaction. No. He's read her file and he's an even better reader of people. What Faith is going to do is act out and Clint has a feeling it's not going to be pretty.

"Ever had a Slayer, Tony?" Faith asks as she licks her lips and runs her hand slowly down the front of his shirt, stopping just above his belt. His eyes go wide and the arc reactor in his chest throws off a spark. Her voice drops into a sultry purr and when she speaks, it's hypnotic. "I've got muscles like you've never imagined. I could ride you so hard it'd make this reactor in your chest melt down like Chernobyl. I'd squeeze you so tight you'd think you weren't ever getting out alive and you'd spout like a geyser. Maybe for a minute, you'll think you've had enough, then you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more. But you know why it ain't gonna happen?" Her mouth is dangerously close to Tony's when she says, "Because I'm Steve's girl, dumbass."

Tony makes a sound that can only mean one thing, which Clint definitely does not want to think about. But then Tony makes all of them think about it when he blurts, "I just came in my pants." He pulls a face. "Oops. Overshare. It's the sex spit. Don't tell Pepper." Then he cackles maniacally. "Hey Spangles, does she really have muscles like that?"

A muscle in Cap's jaw jumps wildly and he responds with a curt nod. With a growl, he grabs Faith and throws her over his shoulder. He mutters something about 'after effects' as he carries her into the stairwell, clearly not in the mood to wait for the elevator. Clint supposes that the love loogie is affecting him a little differently.

"So," Bruce says to Clint. "That must have been an interesting night out. I'm not sorry I missed it."

"I'm trying to figure out when I became the responsible one," Clint tells him. They both eye Tony, who is staring longingly at the door to the stairs. "Maybe we should sedate him."

"No maybe about it. He's making the Other Guy uncomfortable. Keep an eye on him." With that, Bruce disappears into the depths of the lab.

Clint tries not to look at Tony or listen to him. Nat would have knocked him out without the tranquilizer and she would have done it inside the bar. He also knows Nat's going to love hearing about Tony's reaction to the sex spit. Or even seeing it. "Hey, JARVIS. Did you record the last ten minutes?"

"Of course," JARVIS replies smoothly. "Mr. Stark requires me to record all activity in the lab."

"Send a copy to Natasha."

 

00000000000000000000000000000000

 

"Put me the hell down, Captain Caveman."

Steve sets Faith down on the landing. They're two stories below the residential floor and he could carry her to the roof, the way he's feeling. The sex spit wore off in minutes, but her little speech to Tony had an effect all its own. He already knows that Faith can talk dirty but...well, damn. That was uncomfortably arousing. Dirty talk is fine, but he's still a product of his generation and believes it belongs in the bedroom. Or the kitchen. Well, anywhere, really, as long as it's between the two of them and doesn't include Tony Stark. He doesn't want to start a fight, so he flashes a smile at Faith. "You wanna carry me instead, doll?"

She snorts out a laugh. "Sometimes, you're so normal I forget ---"

"Normal?" He leans back against the wall and grins down at her. "You sure you wanna keep going with that train of thought?"

"You want me to call you anachronistic?"

It's Steve's turn to laugh. He's heard the term applied to him before, of course, along with a number of less flattering ones. "That's a big word."

"Yeah," Faith agrees with a frown. "Where the hell did that come from?" She shrugs. "Anyway, I guess... That thing I did with Tony. Maybe that was a little too 21st Century for you, huh?"

"It was unexpected," he admits and then adds with a smirk, "but sometimes, you're so normal, I forget --"

"Screw you, Rogers!" Faith laughs.

"You modern women are so vulgar." Steve chuckles. 

"You wanna see vulgar?" Before he can react, she's scooped him up into her arms and starts carrying him like a blushing bride up the remaining stairs. "I can show you vulgar."

"I'd like to see your brand of vulgar."

"You can't handle my brand of vulgar." They're at the 44th floor and she manages to open the door without setting him down.

Steve is impressed with her strength, but not her assertion. "You kids today think you invented sex."

"Nah, but we invented a lot of really great sex toys," Faith counters, carrying him over the threshold to her room and dropping him onto the bed. "Granted, they probably had bullwhips during the good old days, but did anyone ever use one on you?"

"A Nazi interrogator tried it on me one time. Can't say it did anything for me other than hurting like hell." No sooner does he say it than Steve realizes he's just killed the mood by reminding her that he's a walking piece of history. "Sorry."

"You? You're sorry? Jesus." Faith scrunches her eyes closed. "I'm an idiot."

"You forgot I wasn't normal. It's okay."

"Nazis," Faith exhales. "Just...damn. That's..."

Damn is right. The mood is officially dead and no amount of Glenn Miller is going to bring it back. "Yeah. Nazis."

"You fought the damn Nazis."

Okay, maybe it's not dead. "Uh..."

"That's so fuckin' hot." 

"And, for your information, *my* generation invented sex."

"That's damn impressive, Steve, inventing sex and killing Nazis."

"Why do you think I slept for 70 years? I was exhausted."

"And you wonder why I don't think you're normal."

"Normal," Steve says, pulling her close, "is over-rated."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have a tail," Tony announces, cutting her off. His voice is two octaves above normal and he's breathing heavily.
> 
> There's silence over the comm link. "Can you repeat that, Tony?" Cap asks, finally. "It sounded like --"
> 
> "I have a tail." The tail has torn a hole in the back of Tony's pants. It's a long, elegant affair that's scaled and blood red in color. The tip ends in a deadly looking spike. "I have a big red spiky tail."

Chapter 7

 

"You're supposed to fire that, not use it like a club."

Faith ignores Clint's voice in her ear as she uses the bulky SHIELD weapon to pry to Doombot's head from its body. Like a beheaded cockroach, the body keeps moving, arms flailing with punches that go wild and miss her completely. She glances across the battlefield to see how Cap is handling them. Like her, he'd been given one of the guns and like her, he's not using it. That's because the damned things don't even distract the Doombots. Cap -- and when he's in his uniform, barking orders and swinging his shield, he's always Cap -- is slicing the Doombots apart with his shield and ripping their heads off with his hands. She watches him tear off a head and then copies him. Now that she knows what to do, her assignment of keeping the Doombots away from the entrance to the underground bunker is a lot easier. The shield comes hurtling in her direction and Faith intercepts it mid-flight.

Cap looks up from his Doombot, thrown off from the break in rhythm when the shield doesn't come back. Faith takes aim and sends it spinning back in his direction, taking out two more Doombots along the way.

"Hope you don't mind me borrowing your frisbee," Faith tells him over the comm. It's the first time she's ever touched the shield and although she has no problem sharing weapons during a fight, she realizes belatedly that he might have a thing about the shield.

"You need more polish on your throw," he responds, grunting as he tangles with another Doombot. "I'll show you how."

Tony's chortle drowns out the rest of the battlefield noise. "Did everyone hear that? Cap's going to show the Slayer how to polish his shield." He lets his comment settle before speaking again. "Faithy, I need you down here. We've found the Temple of Doom instead of a lab and I need our resident expert on the creeptastic."

They're in some Eastern European country whose name Faith can't pronounce that borders on Latveria. Doom is denying it publicly, but he's been sending Doombots over the border in an attempt to annex the more fertile farmland (the public perception) and the underground bunkers of HYDRA goodies left over from World War II and the Cold War (the truth). Faith makes her way down into the bunker, ignoring the tickle in the lizard part of her brain that lets her know it hates being underground and to pay extra close attention in case it's a trap. She hears Natasha's voice coming from up ahead, low and amused, and Tony, sounding excited as he responds.

"Yo, Indy," Faith calls out. "Did you find the Holy Grail?"

"It's like Christmas down there, if we celebrated Christmas like it was Halloween." Tony points to a doorway leading into the depths of the bunker. His empty armor is standing there like a sentinel guarding whatever is below. "I need you to help me inventory so we can report back."

Natasha looks up from a stack of files that she's flipping through. There are no computers for her to hack into here, just rows of dusty file cabinets and their moldering contents. "Love Hangover doesn't like it when he can't science his way to a perfectly logical explanation."

Tony groans at Natasha's use of the nickname. Faith called him that the morning after the Sex Spit Incident, when Tony staggered out of bed, complaining about the spit's after effects and it's stuck ever since. "Come on, Faithy," he says, taking a step towards the doorway.

Faith pulls him back, suddenly aware how vulnerable he is without his armor. "Lemme go first." Out of the corner of here eye, she sees Natasha give an approving nod. That nod means a lot. "Just in case."

"I've already been down there," Tony protests, looking smug. "All the booby traps are disarmed, thanks to JARVIS."

"Yeah? Did JARVIS check for the ones hidden by concealment spells?" Faith asks.

The smug expression falters for a fraction of a second. "Now you're just making stuff up."

"Dumbass," Faith mutters. 

"You call me that a lot," Tony comments. "Cap, I think your girlfriend is a little too obsessed with my ass's intelligence." He flashes a grin at Faith. "My ass, like the rest of me, is a genius, by the way. It's also quite nice or so I've been told. Got voted best ass in New York by New York Magazine two years in a row."

"Faith." Cap's voice is low and intense in her ear. "You're the expert here, not Tony. I want your all clear on the safety assessment. Give me a running sit-rep, please."

"A what?" she asks. She knows what it means. It's impossible not to know. The first thing Xander did was to institute military protocol for the slay babies. When the Council aligned with SHIELD, even more protocol was added. Faith choked on it before taking off. Now she has to deal with it all over again and if she has to jerk Cap's protocol-adhering chain to make it more bearable, she will. 

"Running commentary." There's a pause that lets her think she got away with it and then he says, "Looks like we need to have other lessons besides shield-polishing, Lehane."

Tony, Clint and Natasha cackle loudly over the comm but it's Natasha who speaks. "Who is this Captain America and what have you done with our symbol of virtue?"

Faith is about to add her own off-color remark when she sees what's hidden in the bunker. Two Turok Hans float in tanks filled with a reddish liquid. Beside them are a pair of ordinary vamps, also floating in the reddish liquid. There are dozens of sealed crates and on the far end is a vault. It's gaping open, the door obviously having been ripped off by Tony. Inside the vault sit three books. She describes everything as she sees it, ignoring questions about what a Turok Han is and focuses on the books.

"Only three?" Cap asks.

"I know," Tony says. "After dealing with all that security, I was expecting something a little more exciting."

Faith can't feel any tingle of magic at the threshold of the vault but she feels it when she goes inside. It's low and insistent and it's coming from the stack of books. Cursing softly, she turns to Tony. "Did you touch anything?"

"The books," he shrugs. "JARVIS couldn't translate the titles -- Hey!" He flinches as Faith grabs his hands in hers, turning them over before going over the rest of him, touching gently as she goes, searching for the tell tale tingle of magic on his body. It's not a surprise when she finds it. "Faith is feeling me up, Cap."

"Faith? What's going on over there? I need a report," Cap orders. "What's wrong with Tony?"

"What isn't wrong with Tony?" Faith snaps, as she tries to remember the spell Giles taught her to reveal the presence of a curse. "Just shut the hell up for a second. I can't think with you GI Joe-ing in my head."

It's practically a miracle when she gets the silence she asked for instead of being told off for telling Captain America to shut the hell up. The silence helps her remember the spell. She doesn't have any of the ingredients to work with but she also remembers the way around that. Pulling her knife from her boot, she slices open her palm, letting a drop of blood hit each of the books while she mutters the incantation that she finally remembered. A puff of foul smelling yellow smoke rises from one of the books. "This is the one that got you, Tony."

"Got me how?" Tony asks. "What did you do? What was that? And hey, are you already healed?"

Faith ignores him. "Yo, Cap. You there? I got a whaddayacallit, a sit up for you." As serious as the situation is, she can't resist mangling the jargon, just to get a rise out of him.

"Got me how?" Tony asks again. "God, I hate magic --"

"Tony, let her speak," Cap orders. "Faith, go ahead."

"Here's the sitch," Faith begins and is interrupted by a snort of laughter from Clint. "Tony touched a demon codex and got hit with a curse. I found which one did it and I, uh..."

"Neutralized," Nat supplies and it's sincere, not at all condescending. The sincerity takes Faith by surprise. "If it's harmless now, you neutralized it."

"What she said, Cap," Faith concludes. "So, I guess you need to know what a codex is --"

"I have a tail," Tony announces, cutting her off. His voice is two octaves above normal and he's breathing heavily.

There's silence over the comm link. "Can you repeat that, Tony?" Cap asks, finally. "It sounded like --"

"I have a tail." The tail has torn a hole in the back of Tony's pants. It's a long, elegant affair that's scaled and blood red in color. The tip ends in a deadly looking spike. "I have a big red spiky tail."

"Confirmed, Cap," Natasha says. She's standing in the doorway and her voice is as calm as if she were describing the weather. "Tony has an appendage approximately four feet in length protruding from his genius ass. Sending a visual now."

Tony swishes his tail experimentally and repeats for the third time. "I have a tail."

Clint's laughter echoes over the comm link before Cap speaks again. He's also oddly calm. "Faith? Explanation?"

"I think it's an Aspect of the Demon curse. Tony tried opening the book without the right counter spell and --"

"It bit him in the ass," Clint snorts. "His famous, genius ass."

"Not funny, Katniss," Tony spits, tail swishing indignantly. He turns to Faith. "Please tell me you can fix it."

"Me? I don't do that kinda magic." Faith shakes her head. "You're gonna need a Wicca." And then a thought occurs to her. "You're also gonna need to cut a hole in your suit."

Tony groans and his tail whips angrily. "I hate magic."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's tail whips angrily as he brandishes his Starkpad. "Tony Stark tail porn! You motherfuckers!" He swats Cap's head with the tail. "Don't think I don't recognize your artwork either, Capsicle! Or your syntax, Natasha!"

Chapter 8

 

Steve Rogers has seen a lot of unbelievable things since waking up in the future. Never mind the mind-boggling technology which he's still slowly learning, Steve has seen aliens, Norse gods, flying helicarriers, demons, vampires and the Kardashians. He's likes to think he's been doing well, rolling with whatever insanity has come his way -- and God knows, there's been a lot of insanity since he's opened his eyes on the 21st Century -- instead of hiding in the tribute to the 1940s that is his apartment in Stark Tower. The apartment is his safe place, his time capsule full of Depression glass and the soothing sounds of big band music, where things like he's seeing now aren't happening. Except they are.

"Check it out!" Tony calls gleefully. He's in the Tower's gym, hanging by his tail from a makeshift jungle gym that must have been assembled while they were flying back from their mission because it is an insanely complex grouping of shapes that would have taken hours to build. Mats are spread out below the jungle gym but they apparently aren't necessary because Tony is able to swing elegantly from one high rung to the next. "Whaddaya think, Rogers? I'm going to try wrapping my tail around a flagpole next." Tony follows this statement with a maniacal laugh.

Having gotten over his state of shock and confirmed that there's a witch named Willow Rosenberg who will arrive in a day or two to reverse the spell, Tony immediately went into scientist-mode. He is, apparently, determined to test his tail to its breaking point while making as many off-color tail jokes about it as possible.

"I'm starting to think you should keep the tail," Steve tells him. 

"Pepper doesn't like it." Tony sighs dramatically. "I thought it would add a certain je ne sais quoi to our lovemaking but as it turns out, she's not into tail-kink." He flashes a devilish grin at Steve. "I know you're just recently back in the game, young'un, but as it turns out, the Avengers fanfic groupies out there have a whole subgenre of stories involving tail porn."

"Fanfic?" Steve asks him, even though he knows he probably shouldn't because whatever fanfic is, it involves pornography and more specifically, pornography about having a tail.

Tony does a complicated flip and lands on his feet in front of Steve. The landing was clumsy and Tony winces. "Okay, I need to practice that a bit more," he mumbles. Then he grins again and his tail starts ticking from side to side, reminding Steve an anxious dog. "Fanfic is fan fiction --"

"But we're real people --" Steve starts to protest.

"We are real people who have fans who like to imagine us doing all sorts of things, in and out of uniform." Tony snorts a laugh. "Don't look so upset, Capsicle. Most of the Captain America fanfic has some Mary Sue or Loki popping your cherry -- Cap? Hey, Cap? Wait! I thought you wanted to hear this!"

Steve is back on the 44th floor before he even realizes he's run up that many flights. "Loki?"

"Huh?" Faith is standing in front of him, looking concerned. "You okay there, Cap?"

"Steve," he corrects her and since she's doesn't actively make fun of him for the gaps in his knowledge, he asks, "You ever hear of Avengers fan fiction?"

Faith pulls a face. "Don't tell me you wanna read that crap. It's written by people who've never had the tiniest bit of sex."

"Tony mentioned it."

"Tony probably doesn't have sex, either," Faith snorts. "He talks about it too damn much for someone getting it regular. Pepper's too busy for his crap these days and he's too whipped to cheat."

"He mentioned stories about..." For all of his own experience in the bedroom, especially his recent experience, Steve still has trouble saying certain things. He manages to get out the next words anyway. "Tail porn."

Faith doubles over with laughter and when she straightens, she's got a grin on her face. "How're your writing skills?"

"Mine're pretty good." Clint pops his head out of the vent above them and he's smirking. "Plot-wise, I mean. My spelling and grammar are for shit."

"That's just the current state of education in America for you," Steve says, in his most serious Captain America voice. He eyes Clint. "I think we'll add spelling and grammar drills to our training routines. Fury'll appreciate it when he finally gets reports that are written in English."

"What are we plotting?" Natasha's approach was so silent that all of them nearly jump out of their skin, even Clint. He covers his reaction by coming down from the vent.

Faith can barely keep a straight face as she fills Natasha in.

"охуеть," Natasha swears. "I'm in." She grins wickedly. "I can think of a few choice things Tony can do with his tail that none of you would probably come up with."

"Slayer," Faith reminds her. "I know about tails and tentacles."

Natasha gives her a nod of acknowledgement before turning to Steve. "Cap? You ready to lead this mission?"

"Captain America would never condone this type of prurient activity," Steve informs her primly, before breaking into a lascivious grin. "Steve Rogers, on the other hand, read a lot of Tijuana bibles in his day."

Clint claps his hands over his ears. "Jesus, you're really determined to kill your squeaky clean image, aren't you?"

"The one you people invented and perpetuated where I'm a 90-something year old virgin? Damn straight." He remembers what Tony said about the fan fiction. "It's caught on to the point where they've got me having sex for the first time with someone named Mary Sue and Loki, according to Tony."

"Everyone gets paired with Loki," Natasha shrugs. "Apparently, having hot magical sex with a crazy Norse god is a popular trope."

"I haven't had sex with Loki," Faith muses.

"You just joined the team, возлюбленная," Natasha tells her. "You will."

 

00000000000000000000000000000

 

Faith is up on the roof, about to sneak a cigarette. She's spent the last three hours drinking and writing increasingly kinky shit about Tony and his tail with her teammates. Buffy, no matter how far she's gotten the stick out of her ass, would never do that. This is one of the reasons Faith is really starting to like being part of the Avengers. They're all nuts. It makes up for the mind-numbing protocol, the saluting and the endless piles of reports she has to read and write. And, of couse, there's Steve. There's also a thing as too much togetherness, which is why she's on the roof. 

"I understand you'd like to have sex with me." The voice comes from out of nowhere and Faith's heart skips a beat when she sees who the speaker is. Loki is better looking than she expected from his SHIELD file, all decked out in some kind of leather ensemble that's tight in all the right places. He flashes a dirty smile full of intent as he adds wickedly, "Hot, magical sex."

She considers him, making a show of checking him out. Loki looks like he knows a thing or two about hot, magical sex. "I heard," Faith responds with a non-committal shrug of her shoulders, "that you've done the rest of the team so I guess I was feeling kinda left out."

He throws back his head and laughs. "I like you."

"I'm kinda shaky about you," Faith counters. "But since you're feeling all friendly, I'm good with not throwing down. I'm still sore from those damn Doombots." She holds out the pack of cigarettes. "Wanna smoke?"

To her surprise, he takes one, lights it and then blows out a series of green smoke rings. "These are horrible. I'll have to bring you some from Muspelheim."

"Now you're just makin' up words." She lights up, takes a deep drag and sighs contentedly. "So you were what? Spyin' on us?"

"I detected the presence of magic," Loki says, his mouth curving into a smirk. "And then I saw why. I couldn't leave after that. It was far too amusing."

Faith rolls her eyes and doesn't point out the obvious. Loki sensed magic and came to make sure his brother was okay. So the dude isn't totally evil and since he's not, she decides to make a suggestion. "You could really blow Tony's mind by reversing the curse."

"And ruin the fun you foolish mortals are having with your storytelling?" The god snorts -- actually snorts! "Though I must say, I was quite surprised at the rather filthy depths of the good Captain's imagination."

"I'm not." 

"No. I suppose you're not." He smirks again. "You haven't seen filthy until you've seen what the Vanir pass off as tales for the boudoir."

"The what?"

"The bedroom."

"I know what a boudoir is," she says, rolling her eyes. "I don't know what a Vanir is."

"I suppose you'd consider them gods."

Faith crushes her cigarette under her boot. "Like you?"

"Like me," he affirms, ignoring her skeptical look. "I've been immortalized as a god in your mythology."

"You've also been immortalized getting it up the ass from Captain America," Faith points out. "And Hawkeye. And the Widow, wearing some kind of monster strap on. How the mighty have fallen. Unless that's your kind of kink."

He barks out a laugh. "You couldn't possibly imagine my kind of kink, Slayer, but you'll find out for yourself soon enough."

Suddenly, she's back in Steve's room and they're all so busy typing up whatever insane shit they've come up with in her absence that they don't notice how she suddenly just appeared. 

Steve turns around and whatever they've been writing must be good because his cheeks are bright red. "Been up on the roof smoking again?"

"Crowded, enclosed spaces. Ex-con," she reminds him. She considers mentioning her bizarre meeting with Loki but decides not to be a buzzkill. "So, what've we come up with while I've been gone?"

 

000000000000000000000000

 

"You guys suck."

Clint lowers the cup of coffee in his hand and gives Tony his best impassive spy face. Behind him, Faith and Cap aren't even bothering to hide their snickering. "What's wrong?"

Tony's tail whips angrily as he brandishes his Starkpad. "Tony Stark tail porn! You motherfuckers!" He swats Cap's head with the tail. "Don't think I don't recognize your artwork either, Capsicle! Or your syntax, Natasha!" 

Natasha gives a very Russian shrug. "Nice detective work, JARVIS."

"Thank you, Ms. Romanov," the AI responds.

"He's identified every single damned one of you," Tony growls, his tail slapping the floor with each angry word. 

Clint wants to laugh so badly that he's amazed he's holding his blank stare. Later, he promises himself. He will laugh later.

"There is the matter of the unidentified author of sixty-nine stories which appeared on the Internet during the past five hours, sir," JARVIS reminds him. "The number itself may have some significance --"

"All right, JARVIS," Tony cuts him off. The tail thrashes wildly. "We all get it. What I don't get is which of you assholes is Mr. Mischief."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow's mouth drops open. "Faith? A-and Captain America?"
> 
> "Let me put it to you this way, Glinda," Tony says, smirking. "Faith knows all the words to God Bless America and she hums them to him regularly."

Chapter 9

 

Tony Stark has had enough of his tail. It was fun at first, being able to dangle from it, grab things with it and go up his assistant's skirt with it. The fun started fading with the tail porn -- especially the sick shit that was apparently written by Loki -- and had vanished altogether two days later when the witch who was supposed to remove the damned thing was delayed. Faith assured him there was a good reason, but Tony wasn't entirely convinced the excuse wasn't part of some practical joke masterminded by Captain Assface just to fuck with him. So here he is, five days in, thinking how very, very sick he was of the tail and stuck waiting impatiently in his lab for the witch.

The elevator dings -- finally -- and there she is, being escorted in by Faith and the Captain. Tony's eyes narrow and his tail -- dammit -- twitches as he discerns what he thinks is an air of tension around the trio that's coming into his lab. Now that he's finally meeting her, the witch isn't anything like he expected from her file, which somehow managed to omit any and all images of her. JARVIS hadn't been much help in finding any either, which led Tony to believe the poor girl was a level of hideous that would have broken any image capturing technology. It was a mystery and Tony hates any mystery he can't solve with his technology. So lack of images in mind, Tony is more than a little surprised to discover that the witch isn't witchy at all. Willow Rosenberg looks like a hippie chick grad student. She's a cute little red-head, dressed up like a Stevie Nicks wanna-be and Tony is not imagining the star-struck look in her eyes.

"I-it's so nice to meet you, Mr. Stark," the witch says and there it is, a cute little stammer. Definitely, star-struck.

Tony's tail and another part of him twitch with interest. He cuts his eyes to Faith and judging by the way she's shifting from foot to foot, looking anywhere but at the witch, Cap or him, Tony smells a rat. "Call me Tony. Any friend of Faith's..."

Pay dirt. The witch twitches. So does Faith. Cap doesn't but it hasn't escaped Tony's notice that he's in formal Captain America mode instead of being buddy buddy with his girlfriend's friend. So what is she? A ringer? Yet another practical joke? He's already started looking into the painful prospect of having the tail amputated and if he's humiliated again now, he's booking the surgery for first thing tomorrow.

"Tony," Willow says. "Have a seat. This is going to take a while."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "This?" 

"This. The magic. It's not like I'm going to point a wand and say bibbity-bobbity-boo." She flashes an utterly charming nervous smile in his direction as she sets an oversized messenger bag down on his lab table. The nervous smile increases in intensity when she pulls out a plain pillar candle. 

"Is that scented?" Tony asks.

"No," Willow answers slowly. "I guess we could use one if it has essential oils, if it would make you more comfortable while I perform the supplication to the Goddess K'shalla. Just essential oils. Those Glade and Yankee Candle ones throw off the summoning spell."

Tony feels his eyebrows creep up to his hairline. "You're kidding, right?"

"Just about the Yankee Candles," Willow assures him. "They're kind of pricey so I tend not to use them when doing a spell."

He casts another stare at Faith and Cap. Faith is still avoiding all eye contact and the Captain is leaning back against a desk next to her. He's got the hawk-like stare that Tony has come to recognize as his battlefield stare, which means he's not exactly confident in the candle thing either. "So that's it?" Tony asks Willow. "You light a candle and summon a goddess?"

Willow smiles weakly. "Uh, well, no. That just makes you more receptive to magic."

"I see," Tony says, injecting as much sarcasm as he can muster. His tail swishes and emphasizes his point, nearly extinguishing the candle with the breeze it makes. "Doesn't a tail say I'm pretty receptive to begin with?"

"The tail is the result of a curse," Willow says, catching the tail before it can swat her and lowering it gently. "Unless you've got a defensive spell to protect you, the curse is going to overcome any natural resistance to magic you may have. Most humans have a little resistance but not much."

It sounds logical but Tony really doesn't like anything he can't test and analyze. He also doesn't like that she's not telling him everything. "Okay, so you make me more receptive. Then what?"

"It would be better if you didn't know all the details," Willow suggests. "At least, not until after --"

"No. You're going to tell me now," Tony barks, tail stabbing the air for emphasis.

Willow sighs. "Aspect of the demon can only be cured with the essence of the demon. Are you sure you want me to go on?"

Tony thinks about all crazy shit he's learned about demons lately. "Does this involve demon spunk?"

"No."

"Having sex with a demon?"

"No!"

"Fine, go on. If it's neither of those, I can handle it," Tony assures her.

Willow hesitates, looking uncertain.

"I saved the world," he reminds her. "More than once."

She heaves a sigh. "You have to eat the demon's heart."

"Cooked?"

"Raw."

"Bullshit. I call bullshit and do not scold me for my language, Spangles." Tony's tail is thwapping the floor hard enough to put cracks into it. "This is some plot the two of you came up with, isn't it? Isn't it?!" 

Faith rolls her eyes. "You really think --?"

"Tail porn," Tony reminds her. The tail, as if it has a mind of its own, whips wildly, knocking the candle from the table behind him. "You were able to rope Reindeer Games into doing creative writing so I wouldn't put anything beyond you and your boyfriend."

Willow's mouth drops open. "Faith? A-and Captain America?"

"Let me put it to you this way, Glinda," Tony says, smirking. Yeah, he's got the lay of the land now and it's good to be back in control on the giving end of the snark. "Faith knows all the words to God Bless America and she hums them to him regularly."

A nauseated look crosses Willow's face before she quickly plasters on a phony smile that she directs at Faith. "Well, that's...uh...good. Good for you, Faith."

"Gee, thanks Willow." Faith's voice is pure saccharine. 

Tony counts the seconds it takes for Willow to realize that she's probably ticked off Captain America by insulting his girlfriend. It only takes three.

"Congratulations to you, too, Captain," Willow says hurriedly. "Faith is...well, she's..."

Faith's eyes narrow but before she can let loose with her undoubtedly scathing retort, Cap steps in. He's flashing his all-American publicity photo smile. "She's swell. You don't have to tell me that, ma'am."

How, Tony wonders, had he ever not noticed that little Stevie Rogers was such a little shit? How had he ever believed this man was a blushing, innocent virgin? Then again, the Internet believes he's a blushing, innocent virgin and that means their guest probably does, too. "Faith is Cap's first serious lady friend." He puts extra emphasis on the 'serious' and is rewarded by seeing Cap's jaw clench behind that oh-so-bright smile.

"She sure is," Cap gushes, rising to Tony's challenge. "There wasn't a lot of time for romance while I was busy fighting the forces of Hitler and HYDRA with the Howling Commandos during the War. I sure am glad I've got the chance now and that I've been lucky enough to meet a dame like Faith, who's fought the forces of evil and darkness."

"Goddess," Willow exclaims and boy, is she pissed. "How the hell did you people manage to stop an insane Norse god and an alien invasion?" She stiff arms the Captain. "Out! Both of you. Now!" They practically skip out of the lab. The redhead turns to Tony. "You. Sit your spike-tailed ass in the chair and don't say another word or I'll use a spell of silence on you."

"Easy, there, Elphaba --"

"It's Willow! Now sit, Stark!" 

Just to piss her off more, he wags his tail and barks. The next thing he knows, he can't make a sound.

"Spell of silence," Willow tells him primly.

Tony sits. God, he hates magic.

 

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"You," Faith tells him, lighting a cigarette, "are an asshole."

"Language," Steve scolds and for good measure, he plucks the cigarette from her mouth. They're on the roof -- at his suggestion -- because he thought the fresh air would calm her down. "And I was putting that little pistol in her place."

"Thank you for being an asshole," she amends and takes out another cigarette. "Lay off. I need this. Got a little heavy for me down there."

"Tony's going to be lucky if he doesn't come out of this worse than he went in." He knows Faith can tell he's deliberately keeping the subject well away from the judgmental little witch downstairs.

"She wasn't wrong," Faith says, steering the subject there anyway and stamping out the cigarette forcefully, "but she don't have the moral high ground either. Her body count is as high as mine and I didn't try to end the world." 

"We've all done things we regret," Steve reminds her. "Even me. And I'm gonna be an asshole when somebody insinuates that you're not good enough for me. You're not an Avenger by accident, Faith. Willow may not see you, but we do. I do."

Faith turns her head quickly but Steve sees the tears in her eyes. "Were you this perfect before they injected you with super stud serum?"

"On the inside? Yeah." He moves closer to her. "I've always hated bullies and Willow was being a bully." With a grin, he tilts her chin up with a finger. "I could mouth off to the best of them without the serum. Got my behind kicked a lot. With the serum, I was the one doing the kicking. I even kicked Hitler's."

"I saw the movie," Faith smiles. "I'm surprised you didn't win an Oscar for that performance."

"See? You're a really lucky dame," Steve tells her. "You've got a bona fide superhero movie star for your fella."

That earns him a snort of laughter. "Man, it's gonna be all over Slayer Central how I'm corruptin' you. That's the problem with having a bunch of super-powered teenage chicks. Constant gossip."

"I'm sorry, have you met Clint and Tony?" And then the Man with the Plan comes up with a real lulu that'll get even with Tony for stirring the pot with the witch. "They're teenagers?"

"Mostly, yeah. A few like B and me, we outlived the odds. Why?"

Steve grins wickedly. "I'll bet those girls would love to meet Iron Man and have Hawkeye run practice drills with them, don't you?"

"You," Faith assures him, "are an asshole. I'll make the call."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take Your Slayer to Work Day, Part 1.
> 
>  
> 
> When the elevator finally dings, Pepper Potts is leading the way, followed by a dozen girls in their early teens. They are wide-eyed and have clearly fallen under Pepper's spell while she's taken them on a tour of the Tower. Clint is sure that by the end of the day, if anyone asks which Avenger they want to be when they grow up, the girls will unanimously answer Pepper.

Chapter 10

 

The only sound in the room is the pencil in Steve's hand, gently scratching at the sketch pad. Faith had some idea that he liked to doodle but when he showed her some of his sketches, she'd been blown away by how good they were. If she could draw like Steve, she'd never pick up a stake again but he just blushed when she told him that. He blushed even harder when he asked if he could sketch her. Faith loved seeing him blush so she suggested he sketch her naked. And that's when she realized maybe all that blushing and stammering was bullshit and he'd wanted to draw her naked all along. Or not. The weirdest things embarrass him sometimes.

Anyway, it seemed like a good idea a hundred years ago, before she'd lost all feeling in her ass and legs and was so god damned bored that she wants to scream. She's propped on her side, balanced on an elbow on Steve's bed, with a sheet artfully arranged just so hiding her naughtiest bits. "Yo, Picasso."

His head snaps up and he looks almost guilty.

"You almost done?"

His cheeks flush though Faith can't figure out why at first and then it hits her. Drawing her has been some kind of turn on for him. "Almost." Then he adds, with a sheepish grin, "Getting stiff?"

Faith shoots a pointed glance towards his crotch. "You tell me."

Steve blushes in earnest as he sets the sketch book down. "Hey, easy."

"You sure embarrass easy sometimes." With a grin, she drops the sheet and gives him an eyeful. 

His eyes take their time traveling over her. "I guess it seems kinda strange, huh? Women talked like that in my day but still..." He's practically mumbling by the end of that sentence and then he sighs heavily. "The future confuses the hell out of me sometimes."

This, Faith realizes is a Serious Discussion. She avoided those like the plague until Robin, her first Serious Relationship, which not coincidentally, was also a Serious Drag. For all of his spontaneous gestures (read: surprises) and romantic talk, Robin also worried and nagged every time she went out. If she came back banged up, even a little, he'd start talking about his mother and lecturing about how she needed to be careful. Okay, Faith got that. She did. But there was no way that relationship was ever going to be healthy. The guy had classic mommy issues. And now here's Steve and he's got Serious Discussion written all over him. 

The idea of a Serious Discussion with Steve is a lot scarier than a Robin Serious Discussion and Faith misses the old days where she'd just run like hell to avoid Serious Discussions altogether. Well, just for a second anyway. The thing is, Steve doesn't have Serious Discussions. He flatly refuses to talk about the trouble he's having adapting even though everyone knows he is. No, Steve is all sunshine and patriotism and, lately, practical jokes and the horniest bastard she's ever met. Nobody ever sees him sad. Not unless they sneak into the gym and see what he does to punching bags in the middle of the night. 

Despite the fact most people think she's stupid, Faith paid attention when Xander talked about PTSD. It's a real concern for Slayers who do nothing but kill vampires and demons day in and day out. It's also a real concern for soldiers. So they have that in common. But what Steve and Faith also have in common are chunks of missing time. Who knew a coma could be a bonding experience? "The future scares the hell out of everyone. Nobody wants to admit it."

"Everyone," Steve says slowly, raising his eyes to hers, "hasn't lost seventy years." There's a pause where he lets her feel the weight of those seventy years. "You lost eight months, right? You've got some idea what that feels like."

Coma buddies. Go figure. And it's not what 'that' feels like. It's what he's feeling. Most women would be hugging him, telling him how it was going to be okay. Faith doesn't do hugs. What she does these days is tell the truth. "I felt like a ghost. Everyone moved on and all the things that meant everything when I went under, they didn't matter anymore. I didn't matter anymore."

He nods and those brilliant blue eyes focus on her intensely as he sinks down beside he on the bed. "How did you handle it?"

Oh God, does she want to lie but he wouldn't be asking if he wasn't having trouble. Asking, Faith knows, is costing Steve Rogers a lot. Forget Serious Discussion. This is Trust and that's the biggest gift anyone's ever given her. Period. "I hit bottom. Hard." Faith decides he doesn't need to know the particulars but he does need to know the important part. "I wanted to die. That was me, after eight months and losin' a guy who was like a father to me." She lays her hand over his and asks the million dollar question. "How are you handling it?"

Steve pulls away, rolls onto his back, groans and covers his eyes. "I don't know. I'm trying and I think I'm doing okay, especially with you and then..." He sucks in a ragged breath. "It's been non-stop since I opened my eyes. Fury gave me a few weeks to find out everyone I knew was either dead or close to it and then the Chitauri invaded. When it's not some god damned crisis or another, it's the endless homework that SHIELD gives me so I can catch up. I'm supposed to take a test on the 1960s next week as part of Fury's master plan to shove seven decades of history down my throat."

"Jesus," is all she can say to that. 

"And then there's The List."

"The list?"

"The fucking List." There's a bitterness in his voice she's never heard before. "Everyone I meet tells me there's a movie I need to see, a book I need to read, music I need to listen to, words I should use, words I shouldn't use, historical facts I need to know. I write it all down, whatever they tell me, because how the hell do I know if it's important?"

"What kinda stuff are these assholes telling you you're supposed to know?" Faith asks, leaning over him.

Steve blows out a frustrated sigh. "I swear I don't even know. Something called Star Trek but not the new one. Or maybe that's Star Wars. Disco. Some band called Nirvana, which I did try to listen to and it just... It was noise. It all sounds like noise."

Faith snorts. She can't help it. "You're stressing over disco? For real?"

"It's not funny."

"If you knew what disco is, yeah, it'd be funny."

He sits up abruptly, posture stiff and angry. "But I don't and I'm tired of being the butt of everyone's jokes or an object of pity because of it. Or worse, treated like a freak."

She gets it. Really. People are putting him in a box and they've labeled him but good. God, does she know that feeling. "Okay, fine. I got something for your list. Go get it so I can write it down for you." That's the thing about Steve. Give him an order and he follows it, no matter how pissed he is. The notebook he hands her is a small Moleskine one but there are pages of entries and most of it, as she suspected, is just bullshit. It takes seconds for her scribble her item on the last page and thrust the notebook back at him.

His jaw clenches as he takes it and then his blue eyes go wide with surprise as he reads what she wrote. "Find the fun?"

"Start by telling everyone to fuck off, even me, if it means making yourself happy," Faith instructs him. "Start by telling SHIELD where they can shove their Captain America remedial reading program. Same thing goes for those assholes and the List." She pulls the notebook from his hand and throws it across the room. "Take it from a high school dropout, Steve. The last seventy years? They took seventy years to happen and despite what people are tellin' you, not every second of it was earth shatteringly important."

His mouth curves into an uncertain smile. "It might be."

"Was every minute of what happened in America before you joined the Army important? And can I just say, I'm kinda jealous. You had a lot less history to worry about when you were in high school." The corners of his mouth twitch and she feels a sense of relief that this Serious Discussion is coming to an end. "Anyway, none of what I learned in high school helped me as a Slayer. Algebra didn't do dick against a vamp who kept alligators as pets and Watergate ain't gonna help you take down a platoon of Doombots."

"Watergate? Is that important?"

"It doesn't stop a Doombot. You tell me."

Steve is quiet for a moment. "There's one thing I really like about the future."

"Pants that show off your super ass?" Romantic talk is not and will never be Faith's thing.

"Damn right." And then he's on her, pushing her down onto her back and burying his face in the curve of her neck. "You know, a good girlfriend who dropped out of high school might suggest we study together." She starts to tell him what he can do with that idea but he puts a finger over her lips. "What do you think about getting a GED?"

"I'm not smart like you are," she says when he finally lets her speak.

"That's the point of studying," Steve tells her. "So you can get smarter. And yeah, I know most of it isn't going to help against a vampire or a Doombot but you'll never have to call yourself a high school dropout again. Also, you'd get to study with me and I can be very creative with my tutoring methods."

Robin rode her ass about a GED. The prison counselor rode her ass about it. Even Fury's mentioned it a couple of times. Her knee jerk reaction to everybody has been to tell them to fuck off.

"We can do it together," he cajoles. "So when I feel stupid and pissed off about the Korean War or Kennedy, I can talk to you about it and when you get pissed off about having to read The Scarlet Letter, you can tell me." The thing is, she can see he's really into the idea and it looks to her like he's given it a lot of thought. "You know you're a role model, right?"

"Me?"

"You're an Avenger," Steve reminds her. "People -- kids -- look up to you."

"They got no business looking up to me --"

"Bullshit," he interrupts and the forcefulness of the swear kills any other protest. "You're as much of a hero as me. More, maybe, because look what it took for you to get here and you carry that weight every day."

This is why people follow Steve. "Okay," Faith consents. "I'll do it but I have a condition. You gotta cool it with the practical jokes for a while. I get that Stark and Hawkeye don't get how much the shit they gave you bothered you, but you're the guy in charge. You gotta be above it. You keep acting like a total dick and they'll lose all respect for you." She's thinking of Buffy being thrown out of her own house when she says it and she's thinking of herself when she adds, "Then they'll end up following someone who's got no business leading."

"I know," he says quietly, "that me being affectionate scares the hell out of you, but I really want to hold you for a minute. Is that okay?"

It's not him being affectionate that scares her; it's that he gets her like nobody else ever will. "Yeah."

Steve wraps his arms around her. "I don't think I'm going to be able to top Take Your Slayer to Work Day anyway. It's a good note to go out on." He chuckles. "Besides, Tony has this coming. Did I ever tell you about how he explained the Internet to me?"

"I'm guessing it involved a lot of porn."

"Good guess and you're putting it mildly." Steve starts to let go and Faith surprises herself by grabbing his wrists. That earns her a smile that makes her want to grab other parts of Steve. "Clint wasn't much better. Natasha kept trying to set me up on dates. I think a day of babysitting Slayers will help our teammates channel that excess energy much more effectively, don't you?"

"Just remember, Steve," Faith reminds him with a smirk, "those girls look up to you."

"I'm counting on it."

 

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Clint Barton likes kids. He should. He has two of them. Nat and Fury are the only ones who know about them but Nat's the only one who knows he and Laura are trying for a third. So yes, Clint can deal with kids. At least, he's reasonably confident about it. Okay, he's a little less confident since Nat heard about Take Your Slayer to Work Day and decided she had better things to do that involved being exposed to enemy gunfire. Still, he's in his off-duty gear, waiting in the gym to greet their guests. He's got a feeling that his assignment to drill these girls is part of Cap's extended payback plan for the months of jokes at his expense. 

When the elevator finally dings, Pepper Potts is leading the way, followed by a dozen girls in their early teens. They are wide-eyed and have clearly fallen under Pepper's spell while she's taken them on a tour of the Tower. Clint is sure that by the end of the day, if anyone asks which Avenger they want to be when they grow up, the girls will unanimously answer Pepper.

Still, Clint feels a frisson of panic when he sees that the normally unflappable Pepper Potts is looking, well, flapped, for want of a better word. Her face has a faint sheen of sweat and her hair is actually out of place. Pepper looks exhausted and the kids have only been here for an hour, getting a tour of Stark Industries. With a cheery smile, she introduces him and sends the girls into the locker room to change into their workout gear. Once they're alone, Pepper directs a shaky smile his way.

"Anything I need to know?" Clint asks.

"You know what teenage girls are like, right?" Pepper asks.

His daughter is years away from being a teenager. "Just what I remember from being a teenager myself."

"Yes," Pepper says. "Now imagine that with a less dirty version of Tony's juvenile sense of humor and then add in strength somewhere between Steve and Thor. Then multiply that by twelve."

Clint swallows hard.

"And then factor in PMS," Pepper adds to Clint's growing horror. "Not all of them, but definitely at least two." She fans herself. "It's only 11am and I always scold Tony for drinking this early but I think I've earned that and the rest of the day off. There may also be Louboutins involved. My sales associate's been holding a dozen pairs from the new collection for me and he likes to serve me champagne while I try on shoes. You know, that sounds like the perfect solution, doesn't it?"

"You're not planning on leaving me alone with them?" Clint asks.

Pepper gives him one of her reassuring Pepper smiles and rings for the elevator, which JARVIS must have held for her because the doors open immediately. "You're an Avenger, Clint. You can handle it."

"I'm just a guy..." He trails off as the doors close. "With a bow and arrow. No superpowers. Shit."

 

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"This is Xander Harris," Faith says.

Before Steve can extend a hand, the young man snaps off a salute. "Captain. It's an honor."

Steve extends his hand anyway and since it looks like Xander is hell-bent on treating him like Captain America, the hero, he asks, "Where did you serve, son?"

"Uh," Xander says, looking down. "Um...I didn't."

"You're an Army brat," Steve guesses.

"Not exactly."

It's not the first time someone's saluted him and he's mistaken them for a soldier but the way the kid carries himself screams military training. Steve looks over at Faith and raises an eyebrow.

"Just tell him," Faith says, giving Xander a shove. "He'll think it's cool."

"Halloween costume," Xander explains with an embarrassed shrug. "Cursed by a Chaos Mage. I became a soldier and when the curse was lifted, I still had all the training and knowledge. Which, by the way, was so much better than the time I was possessed by a hyena spirit. I ate raw meat for months after that so... Anyway, um, like I said, it's a real honor to meet you. You've been my hero forever and I want to thank you for setting up this day with the girls. I do my best to train them but..."

Faith cuts her eyes between Steve and Xander and God, does she look guilty. "I'm gonna go check on Clint."

Steve waits for the elevator doors to close and smirks. "You laid it on a little thick, I think."

"Let's just say I see everything, even with the obvious deficiency," Xander says, no longer the shy, stumbling fan. "Why are the girls really here? Willow mentioned you guys are a bunch of douches."

"You realize you're calling out Captain America, the national treasure."

"I'll call out anybody that tries to use my girls for something as stupid as a practical joke," Xander tells him earnestly. "And maybe I can't kick your ass for doing it, but I will go down swinging. You have five seconds to explain yourself before I start hurting my face on your fist."

"Payback," Steve admits. "The guys have been giving me shit since I got pulled from the ice. Stop looking so scandalized about me saying 'shit'. Captain America is the job. I'm just a guy. I do all the things you do, Xander, and being called a nonagenarian virgin for months on end pisses me off."

"You know," Xander says, slowly. "I think I get what Faith sees in you. Not that I'm all up in her choices of male companions. I just was one once. And I knew her ex. And I think I should stop talking now."

Steve blinks. "You and Faith?"

Xander nods and then he jerks nervously. "No! Not like you're thinking. We didn't date or anything. We just...uh..." He slaps a hand over his face. "I'm an idiot."

"An idiot who had sex with my girlfriend."

"Once," Xander says into his hand. Then he takes his hand off his face. "She's your girlfriend? Wow, that's serious. For Faith, I mean. Not that she and Robin weren't serious but he was more serious than she was and...okay, shutting up now."

Steve doesn't say a word. What the hell is he supposed to say about that anyway?

Xander cocks his head. "I'm proud of her, you know. When I met her, Faith was wild. Dangerous. Like, scary dangerous. Then, during the whole thing with the First, I saw how much she changed. So when Fury picked her for your team, it didn't surprise me. Try not to drag her down with your immature bullshit." He cracks a smile. "You are so not what I was expecting, Cap."

"My friends call me Steve, Xander, and I'm thinking you and I could be friends."

"I wasn't lying when I said you were my hero," Xander says, looking up at him. "That Halloween costume? It was a replica of your Army uniform and the curse gave me all of your memories and your skills. Including the memories of who you were before the serum."

Steve exhales loudly. "That's..."

"The truth." He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Steve. It's a sketch of Peggy and the artwork is unmistakably identical to his own. "The way I see it, you and I are connected. So when your team starts screwing with you and you need a bunch of teenage troublemakers to set them back on their heels, you should call me."

"You've got my skills," Steve muses, warming up to the idea. "How are you with tactical planning?"

"I've been taking classes at SHIELD on top of what I inherited from you so I'd say I'm pretty damned good." Xander flashes a very Steve-like grin. "So let's go over your plan, buddy, and see what someone who knows about Slayers can add to it."

This, Steve realizes, is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take Your Slayer to Work Day, Part 2.
> 
> One down. Eleven to go.
> 
> He has 203 bones that are still intact. 
> 
> Yeah, Clint lies to himself, he can do this.

Chapter 11

 

As he lies on his back, gasping for air and wondering just how many of his ribs are broken, Clint decides he needs to know just exactly how a girl ends up a Slayer. Lila seems normal but she breaks her toys a lot more often than a four year old girl should. God help him if she's going to grow up into one of these...these...

"Are you okay, Mister Hawkeye?" The face hovering over him is a lie. She may look like an innocent freckle-faced strawberry blonde and those may even be tears in her big grey eyes, but this tiny fourteen year old just kicked him all the way across the gym and broke three -- yes, he's sure it's three -- of his ribs. And then, to make matters even worse, she sniffles. "I'm sorry!"

"Hey," Clint gasps. "Do Slayers cry?"

The little girl -- Kylie -- sniffles harder and nods before bursting into hysterical sobs. 

Aw, shit. He's got a crying pre-teen on his hands and judging by the stricken faces of the other eleven girls who are now standing around him, he's about to have more. "Aw, c'mon, don't cry. I'm okay. Really."

One of the older girls snorts and rolls her eyes. "How did he ever become an Avenger? I could kick his ass."

"The hell you could," Clint grinds out, forcing himself to his feet. His busted ribs protest every move he makes and he tells them to shut up. "Kylie, what did I do wrong?"

Kylie shakes her head. "It was my fault."

"No," he insists. "Think hard. What did I do?"

She stares up at him. Kylie is not only the youngest, but she's also the smallest of the girls. A wisp of a thing, really, four foot ten and if she weighs more than ninety pounds, she's hiding it exceptionally well. She bites her lip and then mumbles, "You underestimated me."

"That's right," Clint repeats loudly so they all can hear or maybe it's just so he can hear, because damn if it doesn't feel like his hearing is going again. "I underestimated you. I looked at you and I saw a cute little girl, so I pulled my punches and telegraphed my moves. And you, Kylie, even though your form is for shit, took me down, just like I deserved. So, Stephanie, what does that teach you?"

Stephanie is the loudmouth who thinks she could kick his ass. She's somewhere around sixteen or seventeen and has a build like Natasha's. "Don't be fooled by all the flashy tentacles." The girls burst into laughter at what Clint realizes is some kind of Slayer joke. Then her eyes narrow at Clint. "You thought we were a bunch of weak girls."

Clint nods. "I made a stupid mistake and so will your enemies."

"No, they won't," Stephanie argues. "Vampires know about Slayers. The only one who doesn't know about Slayers is you."

The kid is getting on his nerves in a big way and since he's supposed to train her, Clint decides he can teach Stephanie one hell of a lesson. "You think you can take me. Come on."

"You're old and you're injured." Old? Little bitch.

"Then it'll be that much easier for you." She doesn't know a thing about him, doesn't know that he's been watching her and that he knows at least thirty different ways to take her down. Stephanie, for all her swagger, uses the same opening move every single time. He steps onto the mats. "Come on. If you beat me, you can take my place on the Avengers."

Her lips curve upwards and they lock eyes.

Clint waits. He's a sniper by training. He can wait weeks -- months -- if he has to, but Stephanie? She's a teenager and she's mouthy, impatient and not half as good as she thinks she is. Not yet. But the kid has potential and he'd love to train her, once he schools her, that is. All it takes to goad her into fighting is a twitch of his eyebrow and he catches her by the ankle, throwing her over his head and sending her flying across the room. His ribs are on fire but the dumbstruck expression on Stephanie's face is worth it. "Who's next?"

There's an eager chorus of volunteers as well as applause.

One down. Eleven to go.

He has 203 bones that are still intact. 

Yeah, Clint lies to himself, he can do this.

 

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Tony Stark is no idiot. He's happy to show the Slayers footage of his suits in action and explain the basics of the technology to them, but he knows if he shows them the actual suit, these girls will want to see if they can take him down. Actually, Pepper knew that and told him in no uncertain terms that he was not spar with the girls in his suit. Tony, of course, would have done it. Just to see how strong they were. For science. He's already been compiling data to compare Faith's strength against Cap's. The stat are comparable and Tony is dying to know whether Faith was always that strong or if she grew into it. Today would have been the perfect opportunity to take readings, especially from the tiny little Pepper clone who is actually *yawning* while he's explaining the repulsor technology.

"Question?" he asks her and yes, he's being a dick but his agreement with Pepper only covered sparring.

"Does it work on vampires?" asks one of the other girls. 

"That's a good question," Tony admits, considering it and then being careful to phrase his answer in plain English. "I've tested it on tanks, buildings, alien gods, and helicopters, among other things, but no, I haven't tested it on vampires. I'd have to assume that since vampires are organic, they wouldn't survive being hit with a repulsor blast."

Another girl stands up. "Would it be like burning them? Because that doesn't always work. Vampires regenerate."

"Excuse me?" Vampires regenerate? Tony wonders if Banner knows about that. Regeneration is interesting. "So how do you kill them if they regenerate?"

Suddenly, the audience in Tony's home theater goes from bored silence to fully awake as they shout answers at him.

"Stake!"

"Cut their heads off!"

"Holy water!"

"Holy water is like fire. Doesn't always work and not on ubervamps."

Tony waves his hands and the girls quiet down. He eyes the girl who asked about burning. "Are you telling me my repulsors won't kill a vampire but a pointy stick of wood will?"

"It is what it is," she shrugs.

"We could bring him one," one of the girls suggests.

There's a snort. "It's the middle of the day, genius."

"Settle down," Tony snaps and to his relief, they do. He points to Fire Girl and leans back against the podium. "You, what's your name?"

"Preeti."

"Okay, Preeti, tell me about the weapons you use." 

He listens in growing horror as she explains that pointy sticks are their weapons of choice but that they also use arrows, knives, swords, maces, axes and other sharp deadly weapons, as well as whatever is around. Tony isn't sure what's scarier, that they use these weapons or that they've barely hit puberty. "In this day and age, with all the wonderful technology that I personally have to offer, do you mean to tell me none of you have tried to upgrade?"

"Buffy used a rocket launcher on The Judge," one of the girls calls out. "Supposedly, no weapon forged could take him out."

"And it didn't. The Judge is in pieces," another girl corrects her.

The first girl rolls her eyes. "Yeah, but lots of little itty bitty Judge pieces."

Tony's mind is racing. "What kind of idiot sends little girls out to fight monsters with pointy sticks when there's technology available?"

"That's how it works, Mister Stark." That's the tiny Pepper clone. "That's how it's always worked."

"No," Tony disagrees. "That's how it used to work. I'm going to find a better way." Judging by the loud applause, Tony has a feeling he knows who the girls' favorite Avenger is and despite what Clint thinks, it's not Pepper. Now that he has them eating out of the palm of his hand, it's time for a little payback. Their next scheduled speaker is Cap and while Tony is sure that Cap intended this session to badly, he has no idea what Tony can do to his session. "So, girls, what do you know about your next speaker, Captain America?"

 

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"Tactical planning," Steve intones, "is more important than having the best weapons." He stares out into the audience and every girl is paying close attention to him. It's gratifying to know that these young women are eager to learn from him, though he's a little worried about what Tony had been teaching them in the session before. "Just because you have greater physical strength doesn't mean you're going to win every fight. If you go in reckless, you're just as likely to get yourself killed as kill your opponent. What should you do prior to going into battle?"

There's smattering of laughter.

Okay, that's weird. He look out at them and points to one of the girls. "Tikva, if you know where a nest of vampires is, what do you do?"

"Get a can of something flammable and burn 'em out during the day," she shrugs. "Let the sunlight take care of any survivors."

"Do you bring backup?"

"No."

"What if one of the survivors is over five hundred years old and can handle a few minutes of direct sunlight? What if the structure isn't as flammable as you thought?" They look surprised and Steve grins at them. "See? I'm already better prepared than you are and I'm not a Slayer. The first thing you need to do is recon --"

"We know this," calls out one of the older girls that he remembers is called Stephanie. "We're not stupid. Well, except for Tikva. We go out in teams and we get intel from SHIELD and from the ICW." She glares at him. "I bet we're better prepared than you are, Captain."

One of the younger ones gets to her feet. "Slayers versus Avengers!"

"Let's send them after the ogre on the Upper West Side!"

"Yeah!" 

"Settle down," Steve orders, using his Captain America voice. Xander warned him about this, warned him not to fall for their attempts to goad him into pitting the Avengers against a bunch of teenagers. Attempts which, Steve is fairly certain, have been encouraged by Stark. Still, Steve isn't called the Star Spangled Man with a Plan for nothing and there is no way he's going to get pushed into humiliating a bunch of kids. "The teams are separate for a reason --"

"Yeah," Stephanie snarks, "we don't cause half as much destruction as you losers do. And we dress better."

Well now, that's just insulting. "The Avengers deal with a different kind of threat --"

"Like Doctor Doom? He uses magic. Maybe you should let us deal with him."

Steve narrows his eyes. "He's human and he's the head of a sovereign nation. Slaying him would cause an international incident."

Tony pokes his head into the room. "So when are we going after the ogre?"

"We're not," Steve tells him over the loud applause from the girls who then start booing and catcalling at him.

"Why not?" Tony is smirking now. "Oh wait, I get it, Cap. You're right. Sending the Hulk to take down an ogre isn't a fair fight, just like sending me with all my firepower wouldn't be fair. But sending you? Why, you're practically a Slayer yourself. That would be a fair fight. Well, almost. I've got a hundred bucks that says the girls take out the ogre first."

"I'll take a piece of that," Clint agrees, dropping down from the vent. "Is Faith on Cap's team? Seems fair. There's twelve of them and only one of him." He grins. "Nat says she's in and she's betting on the girls, too."

"And you have to wear the uniform, Cap," Tony practically cackles. "Not the fancy stealth version. Your spangly one. I understand ogres like bright colors and it makes the competition more fair, doesn't it, old man?"

The girls cheer again and Steve realizes that the reason the girls like Tony better is that he's the same emotional age as they are. "Faith, me, spangly uniform. Anything else?"

"How about me?" Xander asks, shooting a glare worthy of Fury in Tony's direction and then at Steve. "Seems like you could use a Zeppo on your side and it's been a while since I clocked field time."

"A hundred says Zeppo here takes out the ogre before any of 'em," Clint says. "Guy with an eyepatch gets my bet every time."

"No arguments here," Tony agrees. "And to make it interesting for our young friends --"

"You will put money into a college fund for each of them," Pepper says, coming up beside him. She's been drinking, Steve notes, and quite heavily too because there's a slight slur to her words. "Which you will do regardless of whether they win, because it sounds to me like you're asking them to do something dangerous for no reason other than a foolish wager or a foolish prank, Tony."

"Both," Tony admits. "But they said they had to take out the ogre anyway, so we're not asking them to do something that wasn't already planned."

"I'm very disappointed in you," Pepper tells him over her shoulder as she leaves. "All of you."

Steve feels the weight of her disappointment for exactly ten seconds. Then he smirks at Tony. "How about a little side bet?"

"I'm in," Tony says automatically, proving once again why he will never be able to lead a team. "Name it."

"I say it's month before Pepper has sex with you again."

"Two days."

"Three weeks," Clint says. "Nat's says two weeks."

Xander rolls his eye. "You're all out of your minds."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Want a blow job?"
> 
> Steve's eyes go wide and the tips of his ears turn red. "What?"
> 
> "You looked like you could use a hug," she explains.
> 
> "Um..."
> 
> "Hugs ain't my thing," Faith shrugs.

Chapter 12

 

Faith hears the door to the roof open behind her and she braces herself when she recognizes Steve's footsteps. Even though she said she was going to check on Clint, she couldn't bring herself to be in the same room as a bunch of baby Slayers. She hasn't been comfortable around them since her one massive fuck up as leader. So she's been here, on the roof, for the past whatever, waiting for the brats to leave and trying to figure out how to avoid this very conversation.

"Hey," he greets her but, to his credit, doesn't touch her. Steve was quick to figure out how much she doesn't like being pawed, especially when something is bothering her. "Been up here all this time?"

"Yeah." 

"I'm gonna need you to come down."

Faith blows out a weary sigh as she turns to look at him. The sun is starting to set and it bathes him in a perfect golden glow. It would be painful to look at that much perfection but she's been learning that Steve is as imperfect as she is. With that in mind, she just admires the view. "Can't you tell 'em I got called to, I don't know, Asgard or something?"

"You want Captain America to lie to a bunch of kids?" He punctuates that with a Captain America Disappointed Look, which he mostly uses on Tony but has also been used with great effect on everyone but Natasha.

It's damned effective but she forces herself to roll her eyes at him. "Depends. Does Captain America ever wanna get laid again?"

"What happens if Captain America's already accepted their challenge to hunt an ogre tonight? And part of that challenge is that you come with?" 

Faith clenches and unclenches her fists, not trusting herself to speak. Bad enough that he's volunteered her to be in close quarters with the brats but he has no idea what he signed them up for. Ogres are mad dangerous.

"You wanna take a swing at me, doll?" he asks, softly, "Get out some of what's bothering you?"

The offer, amazingly, has the opposite effect so she tries to stir the pot. "You're not gonna ask me to talk about it?"

"I know better."

"Jesus," she exhales, all the fight gone. "How are you even for real?" Hugs aren't Faith's thing. Not at all. But she reaches out anyway, laying a hand over one of his rock hard biceps, and reassures herself that he is indeed real. He is not perfect. Neither is she. But he makes her want to be better. Before she realizes what she's doing, she says, "I fucked up, Steve."

"What? Coming up here? That's nothing --"

"I got them killed." The words hang for a moment and then she tells him everything. How what she tried to do was talk B down and somehow ended up leading the Potentials when it wasn't what she wanted at all. How her brilliant plan to interrogate a Bringer led them into a trap in the sewers of Sunnydale. How four Potentials died because she had no business leading them in the first place. She can't look at him when she's done because she knows if she does, she'll see what he looks like when he's disappointed for real.

Steve hooks a finger under her chin and raises it until she's looking him in the eye. He doesn't look disappointed. He's got the look that says he gets her. "That's what war is, Faith. No matter how good a leader you are or aren't, people die." There's a catch in his voice and then he releases her, turning away.

It takes Faith a minute to understand what that reaction is about. That's the thing about sleeping with a historical figure with a freaky past. It's a minefield and parts of it are well-documented. She studied his life in school and there were a lot of specials on TV about him, too. Especially lately. That's how she knows that the people he's referring to are actually one person in particular -- Steve's best friend, Bucky Barnes. Faith wants to say something profound or at least not completely moronic but nothing comes to mind. Anything she can think of sounds stupid in her head and will probably sound worse if she says it out loud. So she thinks about what Buffy would do because Buffy, being the golden one, the perfect one, would know the right thing to say and she'd probably follow it up with a hug. Since hugs aren't Faith's thing, she says the one thing that she knows for certain will put a smile on Steve's face. "Want a blow job?"

Steve's eyes go wide and the tips of his ears turn red. "What?"

"You looked like you could use a hug," she explains.

"Um..."

"Hugs ain't my thing," Faith shrugs. 

"Yeah," Steve says, slowly, his mouth curving into a smile and Faith breathes a sigh of relief that they've successfully changed topics. "I kinda noticed that. But I'll gladly give up hugs if that's what I get instead." 

"Fine with me." She reaches for his zipper.

"Whoa! We can't do that up here."

"Why not?"

"Stark --"

"Yo, JARVIS. Kill the cameras."

"I'm afraid I cannot, Ms. Lehane." There is what sounds like a hint of regret in JARVIS' tone. "Those particular security protocols cannot be over-ridden. However, if Captain Rogers were to turn 35 degrees to his right, all activity in front of him will be obscured by the setting sun and I would be able to record without sound for a brief period of time."

Faith raises an eyebrow.

"We're hunting an ogre after this, yes?" Steve asks, turning 35 degrees to his right.

She steps in front of him. "What is it with you and the freaking ogre?"

"It's an ogre," he says, face lighting up like a little kid's.

Something inside her says 'what the hell' and she awkwardly wraps her arms around him, resting her cheek against his chest. Faith can't remember the last time she hugged anybody and it feels strange to be doing it at all. It also feels good. Steve's heartbeat is loud and strong and he's impossibly warm. 

His arms wrap loosely around her and his breath tickles her hair when he asks, "Does this mean no blow job?"

Faith reaches down to pinch his ass. "Maybe the ogre'll give you one."

Steve throws back his head and laughs.

 

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Xander is having a fanboy moment. Actually, he's been having a fanboy day. So what if Steve Rogers is out of his mind? It's nice to know his hero is actually human, in addition to being a super soldier, that is. Still, now that Steve is suited up in his red, white and blue regalia and in full Captain America mode, Xander is having a hard time not going full fanboy on him.

"Remember," Xander reminds Cap, "the shield is cheating unless the you-know-what hits the fan."

Cap nods solemnly. These were Xander's rules. The girls got a thirty minute head start and Cap's indestructible shield was for emergencies only. Like the girls, Cap has been armed with a Slayer's weapon. He chose an axe instead of a sword and Xander has to admit, Cap looks badass with it. Cap even manages to look badass as he pries up the manhole cover just outside the 78th Street entrance to Riverside Park, where the ogre's last victim was snatched.

Xander doesn't miss the looks exchanged between Cap and Faith before they descend into the sewers or the way he rests a hand on her shoulder. She must really like Cap, Xander thinks, if she told him about what happened the last time she was in a sewer. He makes a show of sniffing the air. "Wow, Sunnydale's former sewer system has nothing on New York's."

"Never thought I'd miss the Hellmouth," Faith agrees. She elbows Cap. "Stop holding out. I'm sure Captain America has a story about quality time in a sewer."

"A sewer? Singular?" He huffs a laugh. "The Commandos and I experienced the fragrant delights of sewer systems all over Europe fighting HYDRA."

Xander's NVG vision finds a chalk mark on the wall. It's a crude drawing of the Scythe. "The girls have been here."

"Think they can handle this?" Faith asks.

"They're a good bunch."

"Good bunch or not, they're just kids," she insists. "You're sending 'em up against a monster that eats babies. That's messing with *my* head and I'm not a kid."

"I'm more concerned about who's pulling the ogre's strings," Xander admits. That's the other thing about ogres. The baby-eating is only part of their distinct lack of charm. The other part is that they're not very independent thinkers and almost always serve as muscle for some other being, usually a master vampire. He glances over at Cap and says quietly, "I'm glad you're here."

Faith chuckles. "B was unavailable, huh?" 

"I didn't check," Xander says, knowing the comment wasn't the joke Faith is pretending it to be. Cap seems to know it, too and that endears him even more to Xander. Unlikely a pair as they may seem at first blush, they work. "I knew you'd come if I called."

"I coulda been busy with Avengers stuff," she counters. "Like more of those damn Doombots. Those things really suck, by the way. They're like metal Turok Hans without the personality."

Xander grins as he finds himself going a little fanboy on Faith. "How *do* you stop a Doombot?"

"Just follow Slayer 101. Stake to the heart, cut off the head, go for the eyes and --"

"Don't waste time with the flashy tentacles, just 'cause they're waving them around trying to get your attention," Xander finishes.

"Still good advice," Faith shrugs. 

"The wisdom of Xander Harris," he grins. 

She snorts a laugh. "Except when it comes to women."

Xander groans. "I'm never living that down."

"Which one?"

"Which one?" Cap echoes, grinning. "Come on, Xander. Spill."

Faith spills it for him. "Xander dated a mummy and a --"

"She was an Incan mummy and she was hot," Xander corrects Faith. "Actually, they were all hot. Miss French was --"

"A She-Mantis," Faith finishes for him. 

"A very hot She-Mantis," Xander corrects her. "If a girl wants to kill me, I know I'm doing something right." He smiles wryly and hopes she doesn't mention Anya or Cordy.

Faith slants a look at him and doesn't mention a thing. "Maybe you'll get lucky and the ogre'll turn out to be a chick."

"We could have a house full of children," Xander agrees. "Which she will then eat and I won't have to worry about college funds. Also, we'd save a fortune on groceries."

Cap holds up a hand and they stop, going silent. His head tilts slightly and his hand curls tighter around the axe. "They found it." From the way he's tensing, Xander can tell how badly Cap wants to go in and save the girls. The thing is, the girls are Slayers and don't need saving. He glances over at Xander and then he's moving fast, calling over his shoulder. "One of the girls is hurt."

Faith shrugs at Xander but doesn't give chase. "He holds doors, stands when I get outta my chair and calls me his girl."

"Does he insist on staking the vampires first, too?"

"Just that one time." She starts walking slowly. "You realize if one of them has so much as a broken nail, that shield is comin' out."

Xander grins and starts jogging after Cap. "I was counting on it."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ogre grunts softly and then it's dead.
> 
> "The end," Steve says, dropping the sword.
> 
> Faith snorts a laugh. "Seriously?"
> 
> "I loved reading stories about monsters when I was a kid," he shrugs. "Gotta say, the stories don't prepare you for how bad these things smell."

Chapter 13

 

 

Steve knows he will admit the truth to Faith later. He likes her world. The bad guys aren't bad guys because a corporation thinks they're in the way of some business venture or another. He's still annoyed by the underlying motivation for that particular SHIELD mission. No, Slaying is a lot like fighting Nazis or HYDRA. It's classic good guys versus bad guys and Steve doesn't have to question whether politics were involved in deciding to take out a vampire nest. The only part of Slaying that makes him uncomfortable is the fact that the Slayers themselves are just kids. This is the reason he's at a full-out run through the sewers and nearly crashes into the girls he's coming to rescue.

"Is everybody okay?" he asks because none of them looks hurt. In fact, eleven of them look angry and one looks sheepish.

Stephanie rolls her eyes at him. "Tara saw a rat and freaked out."

"It was a mutant rat," Tara huffs. "And it was almost as big as Kylie."

"At least I'm not scared of rats," Kylie shoots back. She taps a finger on his shield and gives him a stern look. "Isn't this supposed to be a last resort?"

Steve slips the shield back over his shoulders and keeps his expression neutral. When he speaks, it's his commanding Captain America voice and not his concerned-as-hell-Steve Rogers one. "Competition is over, girls. I'm leading this mission."

There's an indignant chorus of protest and a muttered 'you suck' thrown in for good measure. 

"Your chatter is alerting the enemy to your presence," Steve scolds them. "I know you've been trained better than that. As for rats, well, it's a sewer and it's also possible we might find out that the myth about alligators down here isn't a myth either. You girls kill vampires and demons. Rats or alligators shouldn't be a problem."

"He's right," Faith says, exchanging grins with Xander as they finally arrive. They took their time coming and Steve wonders if they knew it was a false alarm. "If we find any gators, I got dibs."

The girls mutter amongst themselves and then get louder as they make their case against Steve taking over to Xander. There's a chorus of 'not fair' and 'our job' and an assertion that he's 'bogarting the ogre' -- whatever that means. 

"Enough," Xander shouts. The girls quiet down immediately. "I seem to remember all of you being excited about Captain America --"

"Kylie has a crush on him!"

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

Xander shoots all of them a quelling stare and they fall silent again. "We *all* have a crush on Captain America. Mine is a manly man-crush and I'm not too proud to admit it, either. Wanna know why?" He pauses. "Let's start with the fact he wasn't Chosen; he volunteered. He risked his life to become what he is today and he never stopped risking it, even when the odds were against him. The man *died* to save the world and he's still standing. You think he's being unfair? Maybe he is. You think think he's being selfish and wants to kill the ogre on his own? Of course he is. Are you gonna argue with the guy who led winning battles against the Nazis, HYDRA, an alien invasion and a Norse god? I'm not." 

"And he's got the best ass outta all the Avengers," Faith puts in and the girls laugh. 

Steve is grateful for the levity. He's never been comfortable with the attention that comes along with being Captain America, whether it was being the military's dancing monkey or as a war hero. He's even less comfortable with the pedestal that Xander's just put him on. It's not worth getting into semantics over whether he died or slept for 70 years but keeping expectations realistic is. "The odds today aren't overwhelming. There are fifteen of us against one ogre so let's keep it in perspective. This is a training mission against a particularly nasty enemy." He levels a look at the girls. "And keep your eyes off my ass. That goes for you, too, Xander."

Once the giggling has died down, he takes point and Faith is at his side. Behind him, the Slayers move as silently as the Commandos ever did. They walk for a long while and when an abnormally large rat crosses their path, Steve isn't surprised in the least when none of the girls make a sound. 

"They're too busy starin' at your ass," Faith whispers. 

He knows he's blushing because the tips of his ears are on fire. Bucky used to make off-color jokes like that and he'd always do it right before a big battle to break the tension. The Commandos always got a kick out of how Bucky could make the great Captain America blush or stammer like an idiot. Bucky would have liked Faith. 

The smell of rotting meat forces Steve out of the pleasant thought of his best friend and his best girl and into a grim reality where the thing he's hunting has a fondness for eating babies. He holds up a hand and motions for the girls to stay back. If Bucky were here, he'd be taking point as the team sniper. Instead, it's Faith who does it. She's low to the ground, moving slowly and not splashing any of the fetid liquid under their boots. The passageway splits up ahead and she takes the left fork without hesitation. Faith only gets a few steps in before she backs out and returns.

Her voice is soft but she sounds troubled. "Xander, get the girls outta here. They don't need to see this."

Xander, to his credit, simply nods and beckons the girls to follow him. If they're disappointed, they're remarkably silent about it. "I'll see you guys back at the Tower. Stark's throwing a post-hunt slumber party for the girls."

Faith waits until the girls are well out of earshot and Steve is certain she's factored in their enhanced hearing. "It's bad in there. Might stir up some bad memories. You gonna be okay?"

Steve hesitates. It was only after waking up in the 21st Century that he fully understood what the Nazis were doing in their so-called detention camps. His missions were focused on HYDRA facilities and he's had plenty of time to wonder if that was deliberate on Colonel Phillips' part or Phillips' superiors. Regardless, Bucky and the team managed to liberate the prisoners of one of the camps. They all got formal reprimands for disobeying orders. "I'll be fine."

Her eyes narrow at him. "If you're not, I'm dragging you out myself."

That shakes the nostalgia out of him. "I'm fine." To prove his point, he tugs her back when she starts to lead the way. Out of habit, he pulls the shield from his back and puts it in front of them both. He gets a few steps into the passageway when he sees it. 

Rats are fighting with each other over a small pile of bones. They're so excited over their meal that they take no notice of him until he pulls the gun from his holster and fires off a shot, scattering them. He doesn't care about the noise. The racket the girls made has already alerted their prey.

Faith raises an eyebrow.

"You asked a soldier not to carry a gun," he shrugs. "Besides, a sword would have taken too much effort." Crouching down, he realizes what the rats were fighting over and straightens abruptly. The bones are from a child's leg. "How old was the girl that got taken yesterday?"

"Two."

"JARVIS?" Steve shrugs again. "The link is hard-wired into the suit, just like your gear."

"The bones are a left tibia and fibula and are from a child between 18 months and two years of age," the AI informs them. "Captain Rogers, there is a biological entity approaching at a rate of 38 mph from just ahead of you. It is emitting a temperature reading of 72 degrees Fahrenheit and will intercept you in 12 seconds."

Faith raises her sword.

Steve looks down at the sword in his hand. He has absolutely no training or knowledge how to use one. The shield in his left hand? That he knows how to use. He prepares to throw it and grunts when Faith grabs his wrist. "It killed a little girl."

"It's workin' for someone," she hisses and then rushes forward in time to meet the ogre as it attacks.

Xander's briefing did nothing to prepare him for how ugly the ogre actually is. It's a little taller than Steve, but with an even more muscular build. To Steve's surprise, the ogre is wearing jeans and a black V-necked sweater, looking for all the world like a grey-skinned, bald and gruesome jock. The surprise wears off when the ogre snarls, revealing a mouthful of yellowed, serrated teeth.

"Keif smell girl child," the ogre announces, saliva dripping from its mouth in a thick rope. "Where you hide?"

Faith lunges and the ogre swats her aside easily, sending her crashing into the wall of the tunnel.

Steve is itching to throw the shield, so he does, aiming low and sending it straight into the ogre's knees. He's rewarded with a crack that he hopes are two kneecaps breaking. Catching the shield on its return, he sees Faith getting back to her feet.

"That hurt," the ogre tells Steve and its knees are definitely not broken because it throws itself at him.

He barely has time to get his shield up before he can smell the thing's foul breath in his face. The sword in his right hand is useless and Steve has no regrets about letting go of it. Steel isn't likely to do much if vibranium didn't. He makes a fist and drives it into the ogre's face. There's the satisfying crunch of a nose breaking and a spurt of a viscous black fluid that must be blood. If his fist broke the ogre's nose, Steve realizes, then the shield definitely broke its knees. How the hell is the ogre fighting with two broken knees?

The answer of course, is pure anger.

It's only when the breath sails out of him that Steve registers that he's been punched by the ogre and just hit a wall. The trickle of blood into his mouth tells him that the ogre just broke *his* nose. Well, that's nothing new. 

"Who're you working for?" Faith demands, going for the ogre's eye with her sword. She misses but manages to slice off the ogre's right ear.

The ogre bellows in rage and Steve takes advantage of its distraction to throw his shield again. It slams into the ogre's skull with a satisfying 'thwok.' Anything else would be dead. The ogre is merely stunned.

Faith drops her sword and starts pummeling the ogre. She's shouting at it, trying to make it reveal who its master is. There's not enough room for Steve to throw his shield again, so he grabs her sword and joins the fray, figuring he can learn swordsmanship on the job. He has no doubt his technique is terrible but is technique really necessary to shove the pointy end into various fleshy parts of the ogre and hope it does some damage? 

With another roar, the ogre manages to knock both of them off. Faith lands on top of Steve and her leg is jutting out at an angle that no leg should go. Steve can tell he's got a broken rib or two but the serum does its job so that he doesn't feel it for long. He grits his teeth and hurls his shield for all he's worth. It crashes into the ogre's throat, silencing it. The ogre finally topples as the damage to its neck, its knees and the skull fracture finally catch up to it. Steve picks up the sword and, recalling how Faith dispatched the demon with the skewers, drives it through the ogre's eye.

The ogre grunts softly and then it's dead.

"The end," Steve says, dropping the sword.

Faith snorts a laugh. "Seriously?"

"I loved reading stories about monsters when I was a kid," he shrugs. "Gotta say, the stories don't prepare you for how bad these things smell."

"They also don't tell you to go through the ogre's pockets."

Now it's his turn to ask, "Seriously?"

"Got no idea who it was workin' for, so yeah, Sherlock. Start lookin' for clues."

"I loved those books, too," Steve tells her, kicking the ogre's body into a position where he can access its pockets. To his amazement, he finds an expensive-looking wallet filled with cash and credit cards, a set of keys and a phone that he recognizes as a Galaxy. It's shattered from the fight. "Jackpot. Tony should be able to get something out of this --"

"Yeah, he could but he's an Avenger, not a Watcher," Faith says, grunting as she pulls herself up on her good leg. "This is Slayer business."

Steve waves the phone in front of her. "You said the ogre was probably working for a master vampire. How dangerous is one of those?"

"I promised Fury --"

"Really? You're pulling the Fury card on me?"

"He's a dick," Faith agrees, "but he's a dick who got my sentence commuted and who thought I'd make a wicked cool Avenger. So, since he asked me not to let you do anything stupid --"

"No, he said no unnecessary risks," Steve corrects her. "If you had to stop me from doing anything stupid, it'd be a full time job. I've been doing stupid things since the 1920s." He slides his shield over his shoulders and lifts her carefully. She stiffens and he knows she hates being seen as weak. He doesn't blame her a bit. "I think stopping a dangerous master vampire is a necessary risk, don't you? Especially when you realize we just made ourselves its target by killing its smelly ogre."

"All right," she relents. "Geez, you're like a little kid, Steve."

"I'm right. Admit it."

"Yeah, you're right. You also suck with a sword, by the way. Whoever taught you should be shot."

"Nobody taught me," Steve admits. 

"That explains a lot." With a sigh, she relaxes against him and that's even more of a victory than killing the ogre. "When my leg heals in a couple'a days, I'll start teachin' you."

"You heal that fast?"

"Yeah. How fast do you heal?"

"About the same." He doesn't want to think about what that implies about the origins of the super soldier serum. Hopefully, it's just a coincidence. Then again, he's never been that lucky. "Does the leg hurt?"

"Do your ribs?"

No, probably not lucky at all.

"I know what you're thinkin'. Best to leave it alone. Accept that you were Chosen."

"I volunteered," Steve reminds her. 

"You sure about that?" Faith asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keif the ogre is an homage to the work of the great Nancy A. Collins and her wonderful Sonja Blue. If you caught the reference, have a cookie. :-)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Fury knows just by the subject line that he doesn't want to open Lehane's e-mail. He puts it off for a couple of hours but he knows that he has to read it sooner or later. The subject line is concerning enough: New Code Name.

Chapter 14

 

The Avengers are aces at saving the world. Give them an intergalactic threat or terrorists with a weapon out of a James Bond movie and they own that shit. The Avengers are also the biggest bunch of assholes Faith has ever met. And she's never felt more at home. 

It's the second day of Project Recuperation and she's starting to lose her mind. Her leg is halfway healed from being broken in three places and the concussion is down to a nasty headache. Steve's broken ribs and broken nose are also half-healed. Since they're healing at about the same rate, she figures his concussion is better too. 

They both said 'fuck you very much' to recuperating in the med wing so it's Steve's room that's filled with obnoxious balloons, stuffed animals, cards and crap from their team mates. The box of doctor-themed sex toys that Tony sent is sitting on Steve's dresser. Steve blushed American flag red when he saw the contents and tried to shove it into a closet. He changed his mind damn quick when she offered to play doctor with him. The box is sitting in plain sight to encourage her rapid recovery.

Steve, who's damp and pink from a shower, is standing and watching Faith scratching at the cast which runs from ankle to mid thigh. It itches like a mother and she's got her legs spread wide to get at the itch. "Don't stop on my account, doll," he says, flicking off the towel from his waist to give her an eyeful of super soldier.

Faith returns his look with interest. "Somebody's feeling better."

"Doctor Rogers reporting for duty, ma'am." He slides his hand along the leg without a cast, eyes locking with hers. "Time to check your vitals."

"Look at you, all grown up and playing kinks with me. We gonna do the naughty schoolgirl thing next?"

Steve pulls a face. "We're two young, bright super humans. Surely we can do better than that."

There's a knock at the door and they both groan. It's been a non-stop parade of Avengers being annoyingly helpful, bringing food or just coming to 'cheer them up.' There is no doubt in Faith's mind that Tony is the mastermind behind what she's dubbed Operation Cockblock. Steve pulls on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and lopes over to let pissed off Nick Fury in. 

"Well," Fury says, cutting his eyes from Steve to Faith, "what do you have to say for yourselves?"

Faith knows there's no right answer to that question. As many times as she's been asked it, every answer just got her an ass-kicking, literally or figuratively. She just shrugs.

"Ogres," Steve informs Fury without a hint of irony, "are wicked strong."

Fury's eyebrow rises. "Wicked strong, Rogers?"

"You wanted me to pick up more modern manners of speech, sir," Steve says innocently.

"You've gotten yourselves mixed up in Slayer business," Fury forges ahead. "I keep the teams separate for a reason. It's bad enough the public's gotten an eyeful of the Chitauri and Loki but if they start finding out vampires and supernatural shit are real, it's gonna be chaos. I cannot have Captain America running around in uniform going after goddamn ogres because he made a bet with Stark." His teeth clench as he glares at Faith. "And I believe I warned you about taking unnecessary risks. Two of my heavy hitters are injured over a bullshit --"

"It ain't bullshit." Faith's played by Fury's rules for the most part, so her back talking him shuts him right up. "That tunnel where we found the ogre was a damn graveyard. You telling me we shoulda let a bunch of kids see what ogres do to babies? And okay, yeah, maybe Steve shouldn't have been there. That's on me, bringing him along on Slayer business when he ain't a Slayer."

"I led the mission," Steve puts in. "And I brought you."

"Slayer business," Faith argues.

"You're not a Slayer," Fury interrupts. "You're an Avenger."

Faith gets it. Fury's got a spanking up his sleeve and he's not going to be happy until he gives it to somebody. Defying authority always came easy to her so it's not hard to do now so that she gets the brunt of the punishment. Steve, despite what he thinks, will feel guilty as hell if Fury punishes him. She opens her mouth but Fury cuts her off.

"You're going to pick a code name," he says coolly. "Maybe a new uniform. We can't have an Avenger calling herself Slayer. Sends the wrong message. First names are also taboo. I've let it go this long and I see that's a mistake --"

"Thor," Steve reminds him.

"Thor doesn't have Ms. Lehane's colorful past." Fury turns on his heel and calls over his shoulder. "End of the day, Lehane. Name and uniform. You're gonna be more Avenger than Slayer if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

The door slams.

"Shit," Faith says.

"Shit," Steve agrees.

 

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"They fell for it," Tony cackles, switching off the hologram. "They really thought I was Fury."

Clint rolls his eyes. "Fury's gonna wonder what the hell is up when he gets her e-mail later."

"Especially after Tony Stark saves the day with his specially selected name and costume." Tony grins like a mad man, pulling up this creation and displaying it on a 1x1 scale. "Place your bet?"

"The pool is open," Clint tells him, "and there's money going on whether we can get her out in the field wearing it."

"I'm in," Tony says. "Way in."

 

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"It's bullshit," Faith complains.

Steve nods sympathetically but he really understands Fury's point. Faith's transition to the team hasn't been easy, though she's starting to fit in more. "It could be fun."

"All the cool names are taken." She scratches at her cast again. "And seriously? A uniform?"

"I wear a uniform," he reminds her. "You like mine."

"Don't mean I wanna wear it."

"Try it on," he suggests. "You borrow my shirts --"

"They're shirts."

He pulls his covert suit out of the closet and holds it up. "It'll be big, but --"

"No. I'm not running around with a flag on my tits." Her eyes narrow. "Oh my god. That turns you on."

Before Steve has to dignify that with a response, there's a knock at the door. Grateful for the interruption, he opens it without asking who's on the other side. That, of course, is a big mistake.

Tony saunters into the room, his eyes landing on the uniform that's draped over Faith's lap and he grins. "I ran into Fury on his way out. He mentioned that Faith needed a name and a suit so I thought since I've got some experience with that, I could help a gal out."

"Sure," Faith grumbles to Steve's surprise. "Whatever."

"Fantastic." Tony is smiling from ear to ear. "Pepper had PR test your name months ago and we found that Slayer didn't test well. Too negative versus the image of the Avengers. Faith came off as too religious, though it tested well among Catholics. The PR firm came up with a list of non-offensive, positive suggestions and costume designs. Some of those were a little too...well, not you...so I spiced 'em up a little. Ready?"

Non-offensive and positive means that Steve can breathe a sigh of relief. He'd been expecting 'Dominatrix' or other sex-themed suggestions, although he's still concerned about the spiced up costumes. He perches next to Faith on the sofa but stops short of reaching for her hand. If she wants him, she'll let him know.

"Hit me," Faith orders.

Tony's face lights up. "Show her, JARVIS."

Steve's mouth drops open when he sees the first design. It's an edgier, feminized version of his red, white and blue suit. There's a little red skirt, red thigh-high boots and the stars and stripes going exactly where Faith didn't want them on the bustier top. It's sexy as hell and he'd never be able to concentrate in the field if she wore it but that doesn't mean he wouldn't like to see her in it.

"This is the highest testing of the suits," Tony says and he looks dead serious, as if he's presenting to his stockholders. "Research showed that the public prefers Captain America to have a sidekick. Now I realize that Sergeant Barnes wasn't a sidekick but popular media being what it is...well, that's how he's been depicted since the 1960s. Our PR team believes Captain America and Liberty Belle would --"

"Fuck off," Faith says. "Next."

"It doesn't have to be Liberty Belle," Tony soothes. "There are other patriotic themed names. Spangles makes you sound like a stripper, but --"

"No."

Steve stands up and circles the holographic image. He's still bristling over the comment about Bucky being a sidekick but the projection of the outfit on Faith's body is a nice distraction. And he knows exactly how to get Faith to wear it, at least once. "Fury'll hate this," he says quietly. "He'll hate it so much that he'll never ask you to change your name or wear a suit again."

"It's stupid," Faith protests but Steve can tell she sees the logic in his argument.

"Does she get a weapon?" Steve asks. "I've got a shield."

"I've got some vibranium," Tony says. "Not a lot but --"

"I want a broadsword."

Tony shakes his head. "Doesn't go with the image."

"Screw the image."

"That's kinda the point," Tony says. "The Widow's image is lethal yet sexy. She comes off as unattainable and scary. Liberty Belle is the all-American pin-up girl."

And that is Steve's weakness. He's a product of his generation, after all, and pin up girls were one of the things that got them through the war. Still, he knows they are on thin ice. "Liberty Belle seems a little dated. Maybe just Liberty?"

Tony shakes his head. "Didn't test well. Patriot is too close to the Iron Patriot. We can't give Faith a military title since she's not military and that would be insulting to our armed forces --"

"Screw it," Faith says. "If I gotta dress like a dork, I'll take the dorky name, too." She narrows her eyes at Steve. "I'm guessing we ain't lookin' at any of the other options, huh, team leader?"

"It'll get Fury off your back," he reminds her.

"Fine." She blows out a frustrated sigh. "Send me a picture of that monstrosity so I can send it to Fury."

"Absolutely and the outfit'll be ready by tomorrow," Tony promises. "I'll bring it by so you can try it on."

Steve eyes Stark. Sure, Tony can be helpful and even generous but he's starting to smell a rat. Then again, there's no way Fury would play along with one of Tony's stupid jokes. Fury does not have a sense of humor. At least not one that passes for human. 

"I'll leave you with the report from the PR firm in case you decide you'd actually like a code name and a suit when you're done jerking Fury's chain," Tony says. His sincerity gives weight to the argument that this might not be one of his stupid jokes. "JARVIS, add the report to Captain Rogers' and Ms. Lehane's inboxes."

"Completed, sir. I have also provided a still image and the specifications for the Liberty Belle uniform."

"Great." Tony sails out the door, waving as he leaves.

"Let's go through the report," Steve suggests. "Maybe you'll find a code name you actually like."

"Do I still gotta be your sidekick?"

"It tested well."

Faith eyes him and licks her lips. "Looks like you've found something you like better than naughty schoolgirl."

"Naughty sidekick does have its appeal," Steve shrugs. He decides to get things started by taking off his shirt and maybe he flexes just a little because he knows how much Faith likes it. "Can't argue with market research." He's seen some of those 1960s comics and cartoons where Bucky is either a teenager or a little kid that's always getting himself into trouble. The idea was disturbing on a number of levels. On the other hand, the idea of Faith in that outfit? Not disturbing at all. The opposite of disturbing. "What am I going to do with you, Liberty Belle? I told you not to run off and what did you do? You ran off and got captured. I thought I trained you better than that."

"Gee whiz, Captain America." Faith gives him a wide-eyed innocent look and pitches her voice a little higher. "I was just tryin' to help."

Naughty sidekick. It's something else to love about the 21st Century.

 

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Nick Fury knows just by the subject line that he doesn't want to open Lehane's e-mail. He puts it off for a couple of hours but he knows that he has to read it sooner or later. The subject line is concerning enough: New Code Name. True, he's considered asking her to take a code name but integrating her into the team of misfits was a higher concern. Now that she and Rogers are doing whatever it is that he really doesn't want to know about, he figures she's integrated enough. Hence the new code name.

Then he opens the e-mail and clicks on the image file.

Fury scrubs a hand over his face and calls Stark. "I want in."


End file.
